


The Cowboy & The Princess

by ReynaBee



Category: Shefani, The Voice - US
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 119,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReynaBee/pseuds/ReynaBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've watched Gwen and Blake fall in love in front of our very eyes. Here's what happened when the cameras were off, and no one was looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Press Junket

It's like I have a low grade fever whenever he's around. When I smell his cologne or hear his southern accent booming down the hall, my body instantly reacts: heart racing, breath quickening, hand reaching up to smooth that last little stray hair in place. 

God, what the hell is wrong with me?

I've always been attracted to Blake Shelton, I can admit that. I mean, with those deep dimples and baby blues and that awesome sense of humor, who wouldn't be? When we did that lip sync challenge on The Tonight Show last year, I was really kind of blown away by our chemistry. At the time, we were both married, and neither of us crossed any lines. I would never have done anything inappropriate, and I know he wouldn't have either.

But now there are no spouses standing in our way, and it's like my body is on full alert. Somehow, I find myself standing next to him at this press junket and I breathe him in, allowing myself to sink into the fantasy, if only for a moment. I don't even know if it's possible for me to open up to anyone just yet, but it's fun to pretend.

Either way, season 9 is just starting, and I have a feeling that things are about to get real interesting.

 

God, what the fuck is wrong with me? 

Gwen Stefani is such a firecracker, all blonde and spunky and adorable; she always has been, grabbing my attention despite my best efforts. But lately, I look forward to coming to the set, not just for my team, but so I can see her and say something stupid to make that giggle happen. Man, when she smiles at me, those brown eyes sparkling, it's like I'm back in junior high again, with my first crush. Just being around her makes me feel more alive than I've felt since I got my first number one song. Yeah, it's sad that it's been that long since I felt truly alive.

Sure, we've flirted here and there, but it has always just been for fun; there were lines that we couldn't cross. Now that we're both single though, my thoughts have started down a different path. She is so damn beautiful and has such an awesome personality; if I don't make a move, someone else sure as hell will. Just the thought of her being with someone who isn't me makes me sick to my stomach. 

Now we're taking pictures and she's standing right here by me, the fruity vanilla scent of her wafting through my nose. And god, the way her long legs look in that short skirt and those high heels is enough to fuel my dreams for the next couple of nights. I gotta figure out how to make my move on her, quickly, without scaring her away.

They say when one door closes, another one opens; if that's true, this is one entrance I am gonna try my best to walk right on through.


	2. In the Meantime...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Voice hasn't started taping again yet, but that doesn't prevent Blake from making his move. Will Gwen's hesitation stop them before they can even get started?

This month, so far, has been crazy! Just like insane!! Me and the guys have played in Aspen, then RiotFest in Chicago, and now we are headed to Kaaboo in Cali. It has been so sick to be back on stage with my guys; we are sounding better than ever. I'm in the middle of trying to record something on my phone to post to Instagram, when this message comes through:

**Good luck tonight sweetie. You're gonna rock it as usual, I'm sure.**

I smile at my screen. Messages from The Cowboy have come in before each of my concerts, and every time I get to the venue, there is a gorgeous arrangement of flowers waiting for me. From him. And I melt. I snap a picture of myself smiling and attach it to the message I type:

**Thank youuuu!! You're so awesome and that means a lot to me.**

We've been texting a lot lately, and he's just as funny on my iPhone as he is in person. I try not to let my imagination get the best of me, but I can't help but get a bit ahead of myself. He has been very open with his interest in me, and we've both turned up the dial a notch on our flirting. Once we get back to being at the Voice five days a week, I'll be curious to see how things progress. If they progress. Gosh, I hope they do. Don't I?

**You're welcome...and you're right. I AM so awesome ; )**

I've got to teach that boy about emojis and humility. Before I can respond, another text arrives.

**By the way, you look so hot in that picture.**

My tummy does some kind of flip flop thing and I know I look like an idiot with the biggest grin on my face. What in the world is going on with me? I shoot back a blushing smiley face to him and put my phone away. I have about ten minutes to spare, so I indulge myself in my favorite daydream of late: me and the cowboy Blake Shelton.

 

 

Zuma and Kingston walk towards their classrooms at school, and I turn to walk back to my car. I'm headed into the recording studio; that place has been my refuge since all this shit with Gav...Mr. Rossdale has gone down. With Apollo at home with the nanny, I have at least until 2pm to make some headway with my writing. Checking the rear view mirror, I pull out into traffic, and my heart, like my Range Rover, picks up some speed. True, I'm super stoked to be writing; lyrics and melodies are flowing out of me at a rate I thought I'd never see again. And really good stuff too. I feel so validated when I'm able to come out of a session with a song. But that's not the real reason I'm racing to the studio today.

Blake promised to drop by to see me at some point, and honestly, that has me excited and nervous, all at the same time. It's been almost a month since I've actually laid eyes on him, although we've been texting non-stop. All the coaches met up at Adam's house for dinner after the press junket at the end of August, but since then, I've been performing and finishing up my Harajuku Lovers' clothing line, and hanging with my boys, so I haven't seen any of those guys since then. I had really wanted to invite Blake to the San Gennaro Festival in L.A. yesterday, but I'm still not sure about how much I want my boys involved in what's been going on with me and him. Isn't it too soon? I don't even know how far Blake and I are going to take this flirting-talking thing that we've got started, so I don't want to make too much out of it. This is so weird; I'm 45 years old, a single mother and trying to navigate this new life that I have. Never even thought I'd be here, in this position, at this age, let alone have some schoolgirl crush on country music's biggest star.

I walk into the studio and head straight for the bathroom for one last look; I swear, my vanity is going to be the death of me. My phone chimes with an incoming message:

**I think I just ran over a granny and the dog she was pushing in a stroller, fuckin' L.A. traffic!! See you soon.**

****

Shaking from laughter, I shoot off a brief message to him in return. All of the sudden, the butterflies come back with a vengeance; he's on his way!

 

 

By the time Mr. Shelton strolls in, all 6'5 inches of him looking so yummy in his cowboy uniform, you'd think that I'd have more than just some flower doodles and the words "don't wanna be your sometimes" written down. Honestly, I've been wasting time, running different scenarios of me and Blake through my head instead of working. But because it always takes me a good hour to get into the zone anyway, I don't feel too bad. It's been almost too quiet to work, especially since the only other person here is the engineer in the control room.

"Hey, good looking." His voice instantly brings a smile to my face, and I stand up to step into his open arms. A low hum begins pulsing through me at his touch, and I close my eyes in the embrace, relishing the feel of it.

"Hey yourself!" As he hugs me, he places a kiss on my hairline. He holds me a second longer than what would be considered platonic, and I, in turn, take my time in letting him go. "I'm so psyched that you made it!"

"Yeah, of course I made it. You do realize that you're the only reason I would drive through this God-forsaken city, right?" I know it's true; he doesn't even drive himself to the set of The Voice.

By this point, I'm practically beaming up at him. He's always so complimentary when we talk and our conversations nurture so much of the good stuff in me.

"Am I really?"

"Yeah, really." He tucks a vagrant hair behind my ear and I lower my eyes before looking back up at him. "I'd drive anywhere to see your smile."

"Oh my god! You're too much." Playfully rolling my eyes, I brush his compliment off with a chuckle, not daring to believe the crazy feelings his words stir in me.

"Naw, sunshine, I'm just for real."

The emotion in his sky blue eyes changes from flirty and playful, to sexy and serious in just one blink. I bite my lip and suddenly feel off kilter under his direct gaze. 

After a beat, he rescues me from myself, "So, what have you gotten done so far?" 

"Um, nothing much really." I reach behind me to grab my notebook and show him the measly phrase I've gotten down.

"'Don't wanna be your sometimes,'" he reads. "Wanna be your everything," he adds, looking right at me.

Sounds promising. "I've got another pen around here somewhere; let's get started."

 

It's a little past noon, and "Out the Door" has been scratch recorded. Coming from the common ground of being cheated on by our exes, it seemed like a no-brainer to write a song like this. Blake and I spent the first two hours just talking yet again about our marriage breakups - how we chose to ignore the warning signs, in my case for years and years, and what we would do differently if given the chance. Out of that heart-to-heart came this song, which basically says "if I'm not your everything, then let the doorknob hit you where the good Lord split you." Blake's summation, not mine. I love the song, though, and depending on the mix, it could qualify as country-light or just Adult Contemporary/Pop. Who knew that the country guy and this ska-dance-pop girl could write such an awesome song together?

"This song is so rad, don't you think?" I hop up on the table in front of where Blake is standing, so excited about our collaboration.

"Raaaad!" Blake overenunciates the word, drawing out the syllables, hitting the 'd' hard. "That is exactly what I would call it."

"Whatever, cowboy! Stop making fun of me." I move to playfully swing at him and he catches my arm midair. 

"I'm not making fun of you, sweetheart! I happen to think you're pretty amazing, you know that?"

"And you're so sweet." Damn those butterflies that are stirring up a storm in my stomach, and choking my voice.

"I'm just calling it how I see it. Do..." He stops short, averting his eyes before beginning again. "D'ya notice how I keep trynna flirt with you?" 

Those words, combined with his intense gaze are making me squirm. This is the opening to a conversation that we've been needing to have, though, and I dig up the courage to plow ahead with the question that's been plaguing me for the past few weeks. "What's the deal with us, Blake?"

He leans forward, arms caging me in on either side of the table. "I keep pulling your pigtails and chasing you around the schoolyard, hopin' that you'll say yes when I eventually grow balls big enough to ask you to go out with me."

Straight to the point, and I appreciate it. I can't stand it when people don't say what they mean. 

"Do you really wanna go there with me? Is the timing, like, right for this? I'm not exactly in the best emotional space right now, y'know? Like, I literally have been cheated on left, right and sideways for the majority of my shitty marriage."

"Yeah, I do wanna go there with you, because if I don't, then I'm gonna be the unlucky cuss sitting at home one day nursing a fuckin' hangover, while you're off with some other jackass, and I'll be thinking 'damn, I missed my chance with the most amazing woman I've ever known.' And no, neither one of us is sitting on top of the world right now, but I think that maybe we might be able to make it back up there. Together." 

Sincerity bathes his words and brings me _thisclose_ to just throwing out my list of reasons why this is a bad idea, and falling in his arms.

Instead: "You've thought about this, huh?"

"I've had lots of time to do just that. I don't want to look back next year or 20 years from now, and regret not taking a chance on this. Look, I realize you've probably got a ton of reasons to be skittish about it, but I won't do you wrong." He pulls my hand into both of his and I can feel my resolve weaken further.

"You know, I've only ever had, like, two boyfriends my whole life. And both of those relationships lasted years. Like, I'm not that girl who does flings or one night stands. I don't know why, but I just don't have it in me for that." 

"That's not what I'm asking you for, Gwen." Tears prick my eyes. I am always so freaking emotional, and his voice is so tender and persuasive. 

Last ditch effort. "I've got my boys to take care of. They're my priority."

"I know that and I wouldn't have it any other way." A question creeps into his eyes. "Why are you trying to convince yourself that this won't work?" 

"Because what if it doesn't?" Even scarier: "Because what if it does?"

"Look, who knows what could come of this, right?" He runs a hand through his longer than normal curls. "We could just go with it and see what happens; hang out and get to know each other more. No worrying about what may or may not come of it. At the very least, we can have some fun, some good laughs, good company."

"We're still talking about me and _you_ right?" It's my lame attempt at injecting some levity into this situation.

"You're a funny OC girl, Gwen Stefani." That smile again. I swear those dimples hypnotize me, making my insides spiral.

I smile back at him. "I try."

"But will you give us a try?" The sincerity is back again, in his eyes, his voice, his stance. "I'm not some fancy city dude, Gwen. I mean, I don't know how to dress all slick and sophisticated. What you see is what you get with me; I'm a blue jeans and button-down shirt, redneck country singer from Oklahoma. But I tell you one thing I do know; that's how to treat you like you deserve to be treated."

I inhale a shaky breath and exhale it right back out. "And how is that, Blake?"

His hand lifts my chin to force me to maintain eye contact. "Like the princess you are."

Is this like some alternate universe? How do I even respond to the words this man is saying to me? It's all leaving me a bit overwhelmed, but in the best possible way.

"All I ever wanna do is make you smile."

"You promise?" My voice comes out as a whisper.

He lifts my hand to his lips. "I swear." I feel my entire heart thaw, becoming liquid in my chest, and somehow I already know that giving us a chance is the second best decision I've made this year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done lots of research on the Shefani timeline to keep things accurate, but this is fiction. 
> 
> HotlineBling, you're invaluable. Thanks for all your feedback!


	3. ...in Between Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Gwen and Blake experience the first milestone in their relationship, will old wounds expose themselves, putting a halt to their progress before they can even really get started?

I haven't been on a first date in ages, but I sure as fuck don't remember being this nervous for one before. I run myself through the shower before trimming up my beard in the foggy mirror. Better check on them nose hairs, too. Man, since when did I get so gray? Glancing at the clock, I see I've got exactly 36 minutes to get everything together before Gwen arrives; I want this night to be perfect. I want her to see, without question, that she has no reason to be concerned about us taking things to the next level. I mean, I get why she's hesitant about us dating, but I want to do my damndest to put her fears to rest. 

Tomorrow is her birthday, and I feel the added pressure of doing something special for her. She's had a shitty year - just like me, only shittier. I want this to be a new start, beginning tonight: the start of things going right for the both of us, so we can end the year on a better note. And things will, if I have anything to say about it.

Pulling on one of my favorite shirts, I splash on some stuff that's supposed to make me smell good and head to the kitchen. The sizzling of peppers and onions and spices is making my stomach growl and I can't wait to finally get a taste. Since Gwen loves Mexican food just as much as I do, the personal chef I hired for tonight has made preparations for fajitas - vegetarian for Gwen, steak for me - rice and beans, and flan for dessert. 

"Now Mr. Shelton, everything is ready. Dessert is in the refrigerator, already plated, the tortillas are here in the round container and the rice, beans, meat and veggies are ready to go. Are you sure you don't want me to fix any drinks before I leave?" The petite chef is closing the stove's warming drawer as she speaks.

"Thanks, Cristina, but I think I can handle that part on my own." As a matter of fact, let me pour myself something right now, to help calm me the fuck down.

"Okay, well, dishes are loaded in the machine, everything's been wiped down, and I just need to pack up real quick, before I get out of your way. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Shelton."

"Likewise, and thank you for saving my hide!" God bless us all if I had to cook a full course meal.

I had almost panicked trying to figure out what to do for tonight. I wanted something personal and quiet, since for the next few months we'll be doing press and talk shows and filming associated with the show. Everything is gonna get crazy, real soon, and I want to enjoy the quiet before the storm. Tonight will also give us the chance to talk some more, face to face. We have the best conversations, I swear. We've discussed her ex-asshole and mine, our childhoods, our careers, our dreams for the future - she is the easiest person to talk to. Since that day last week at the studio, we've been texting non-stop, and even have had a few FaceTime calls at night - those have lasted hours, only ending because of drained cell phone batteries. I'm trying to keep my expectations for tonight in check, although I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't want to hold her and taste those full lips. Don't want to get ahead of myself, though.

God, I can't wait to see her.

As if on schedule my phone dings with a text saying she'll be here in a few minutes, and I check my pockets for some gum to help me chew away some of my dang-on nerves. I'm as anxious as I've ever been about anything, but even beyond than that, I'm so excited that she's coming here. Hopefully, it will be the first visit of many. One last look around the living and dining room, to make sure everything is in place, and I know I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

The doorbell rings and I mutter some words of encouragement to myself as I walk to open the door. She's standing on the other side with a smile as wide as the Oklahoma sky and she steps into my outstretched arms for a hug. She smells so good and I think that I could probably hold onto her forever, just like this. Man, I'm becoming such a sap.

"Hey, Sunshine." I breathe her in, letting the curly wisps of her blonde hair tickle my nose. 

"Hey, Cowboy." She's got that girlish tone to her voice; the tone that makes me feel big and strong, ready to fight battles for her honor, or some shit.

She leans back and grins up at me again. "I can't believe how excited I am to see you. Like, is this real?"

"It sure as hell better be! Come on in." I hesitantly release her, and as I shut the door, her hand sneaks into mine and gives it a squeeze, before letting go. I look down at her to see that eager shine in her eyes, and I realize that I've got no reason to be nervous. She's as tuned into this as I am.

We walk through the living room, and her eyes dart around in interest. "Your place is so rad, Blake. Show me around." I take her by the hand and lead the way.

 

 

"Okay, so look at this one." 

Dinner was a big success, our conversation and laughter flowing as easily as it always has. Now we're sitting on my couch, watching YouTube on my big screen television. I mentioned that I only knew a handful of her songs, including from No Doubt and her solo stuff, and she offered to give me a crash course on some of her favorites tracks.

"What's this called?" I lean forward, elbows on knees and watch as Gwen sings in a garage. From what I can see, she's always been as hot as she is now.

She touches my thigh as she speaks. "This is the video for 'Sunday Morning' from like, almost 20 years ago." She's sitting on the couch next to me, and I am loving her hands-on approach this evening.

"Damn Gwen, do you age at all? You look almost identical, from then to now." Seriously, it's un-fucking-believable.

"I've definitely aged," she laughs wryly. "I can prove it."

As the video continues, she periodically sings along under her breath as she leans back against the couch cushions. I take the chance to slyly check her out. Again. It's not that I'm not interested in the video, it's just that I'm more interested in her, the ridiculously sexy woman sitting an inch away from me. Her hair is down and curly, like it was for the Blinds of season 7, but her lipstick is pink, not red. She had on a black jacket when she got here that is now hanging up by the door, and she's left wearing a loose black tank top that shows off a peek of a lacy pink bra, and colorful shorts. The best part are her long, long legs accentuated by the high, high heels she's now slipping out of. Her toes are painted to match her lips and hand to God, her legs are perfection. I've never been a leg guy, or an ass guy, or a whatever guy; never really thought about it before, actually, but looking at her now, legs crossed, smooth enough to touch, I feel like the biggest pervert.

"Blake, hellloooo!" Her singsong voice cuts through my fantasy.

"Huh? D'you say something?" I snap to attention, almost embarrassed at my train of thought, but not quite.

"Yeah, I asked you if you wanted to show me one of your videos. I think you were daydreaming, though." Her knowing smile shows me that she gets exactly what I was dreaming about.

No sense in beating 'round the bush. I look her dead in the eyes and say, "I was staring at your legs, is what I was doing. Your legs are out of this world."

"Whoa! What?" She throws her head back and laughs. "You're making me blush, you know that?"

"You should burn every pair of pants you own." She laughs that cute laugh again, and I guess she thinks I'm just trying to butter her up. I'm not. "I'm serious."

"I always wear pants to perform; I like pants, actually." Her lips poke out in a little pout, and I'm about two seconds from kissing them.

"Okay fine, keep some pants, but for the love of God, woman, don't be shy. Remember, 'less is more'." 

"Okay, deal." She crosses her legs on my couch like a kid sitting on the floor in their kindergarten classroom, and those deep brown eyes roam my face. 

"You wanna see my legs?" I quirk an eyebrow to get a reaction from her. 

"No! Oh my god, you're so funny Blake!" Her hands fly up to cover her pink laughing mouth.

"So what is it that you're saying here, Gwen?" I screw up my face, pretending that I'm insulted. "That you don't want to see my legs? They don't do anything for you?"

"I'm not sure yet, but these up here," she turns her body to face mine and leans into me, placing an index finger in each dimple, "...these definitely get me every time." Girls have always loved my dimples; they've gotten me into, as well as out of trouble, more times than I can count. At the moment, though, I'm just glad that Gwen likes them.

I reach up and grab her gently by the wrists, placing kisses on the palms of her hands as they hover close to my face. 

"You're one hot cowboy, y'know that?" She shakes her head as if to rid it of the thought. "I probably shouldn't be saying that, but yeah, I've already said it!" 

"So I'm cute, right?" I give her my brightest Colgate smile, making sure to point out my dimples for her, in case she's forgotten already.

"You're super cute." Both of her hands grab my arm. I love that she's comfortable enough to keep making physical contact with me. Good job, Shelton! "Like, I wasn't just talking about that hat Pharrell gave you, y'know?"

My head turns to the side as I try to place what she's talking about.

"The Blinds!" We both speak out at the same time and crack up laughing because of it.

"Oh yeah, I remember that. Were you flirting with me right then?"

"Haha, probably." She breaks eye contact, and I can tell she's feeling shy. "Yeah, I was. Remember? I said something about how I was, like, trying to get attention from you."

"Yeah, I definitely remember that." I remember being confused and flattered. At the time I didn't know what was on the horizon for her marriage, although I knew exactly what was going down in mine. 

She winds a curl around her fingers and begins to just open up to me. "I mean, by then I knew that I would be filing for divorce, even though I hadn't actually done it yet, and plus I felt so excited to be back at The Voice, with all of you guys, and then it was just like 'Woah, what is going on? Every time he looks at me or cracks a joke or teases me, I feel so...special.' And like, going through what I went through, I felt the complete opposite of that; I didn't feel special. I felt like, so unwanted and disgusted and like I was such an idiot, y'know what I mean? It's like being around you made me feel real again. I felt happy in the midst of all the chaos in my life, because of you." 

"Gosh, Gwen." Honestly, I don't know how to respond to her admission, not because I don't know what to say, but because there is so much that I could say. I see the vulnerability in her eyes and know I just have to be as open with her as she's been with me. 

"Well number one, you are special. For so many reasons. I've never met anyone like you; you're a once-in-a-lifetime. And you know what? I wanna fuckin' throw Ga-" She looks funny as I begin to say his name, so I back up "- that asshole through a brick wall for making you feel any less than what you are. I don't get it; he had the most beautiful, badass woman in the world as his wife and he fuckin' blew it. If anything I said or did made you feel happy or helped you in anyway, then it was my pleasure and I'm glad it had the desired effect. Trust me, you're not unwanted or an idiot, or any of that. You're beautiful and wonderful and every other good thing I can think of."

I can see the tears roll from her eyes down her cheeks and it breaks me. I use my thumbs to wipe her tears away. "Please don't cry. He doesn't deserve your tears anymore."  


"No, it's not him." She dabs at her eyes with the crook of her index finger and manages a watery smile. "It's you. You say the sweetest things to me. Like, one minute I'm dying of laughter, the next minute I'm crying a river. You're so amazing, I swear. I haven't felt this good, in so long. What am I gonna do with you?"

Everything, if there is a God. "I'm sure we can figure somethin' out if we put our heads together." 

As another smile blesses her face, one of her hands finds one of mine, and she laces our fingers together. "Cowboy, you make me smile like no one else."

"A promise is a promise." Her eyes soften in recognition. "Listen, I don't want you to ever feel like you can't talk to me about whatever's going on, whatever you're feeling. I want to be there for you in anyway possible. When I say that you're special to me, I'm serious. You've dealt with too much bullshit, for too damn long. I just want you to be happy."

"You're so awesome, you know that right?" Her expression is soft and the look in her eyes makes me want to never take mine off of her. I believe the point I was trying to make has finally hit home.

I nod my head in acknowledgement. "Then, let's be awesome together." 

I pull her onto my lap, mentally freaking out that I'm finally able to hold her this close. Her perfectly formed legs lay across mine, and I'm amazed by the smooth feel of them, as I run my palm up and down their length. My head ducks, blindly seeking her mouth. I've waited long enough; I need to know what she tastes like. Our lips meet and I barely notice her hands grabbing onto the front of my shirt because her tongue touches mine. In that instant, this becomes the sexiest kiss I've ever experienced. Dammit, if her lips aren't the softest things. Her tongue moving slowly against mine, tastes clean and sweet and I hold her to me even tighter when she makes that little noise in the back of her mouth. In the periphery of my mind, I feel her hands touching my face and my ears, her long nails sinking into my hair. She's so responsive, as hungry for my kiss as I am for hers. I've never been as affected by a kiss as I am by this one; Lord have mercy. 

Before I've had enough of her, she pulls her mouth away from mine, smoothing her hand over my cheek.

"I'm ready, Blake; let's do this. Let's be awesome together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big hugs to my HotlineBling who totally helped redirect my efforts with this chapter. This chapter is SO MUCH better because of your honest feedback! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!


	4. Happy Birthday to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen hates celebrating her birthdays, and with all that's happened this year, she's not looking forward to this day any more than she normally would. But with Blake in the picture now, will she have a new reason to celebrate?

I've never been a big fan of my birthdays, but for some reason, I'm super excited about today. It's started off great already, because my bedside clock shows that it's almost 9:30 and I've just woken up. Then, I realize what else is feeding my mood: being at Blake's place last night, his words coating me like honey and his mouth making me feel so good. The Cowboy really knows how to kiss. For whatever reason, I feel so sexy when we're together, like so small and feminine next to his big and tall frame. 

Everything he's said up to this point has been really flattering and sincere, but nothing could prepare me for the look in his eyes when I told him I wanted to give us a chance. After that, we'd spent the next hour cuddling and making out on his couch, me sitting across his lap the whole time. In between kisses, he'd inevitably say something to make me laugh, and then he'd compliment me on my smile or get that sexy look in his eyes, and before you know it, we'd be back to kissing again. I had to keep wiping my pink lipstick off his face until he'd finally just kissed it all off of me. It was a little after 1:00 a.m. when I left, and I practically floated to my car, smiling all the way home. He wanted me to text him once I made it home - how sweet is that! - and after he texted me back, I crawled into bed and had the best sleep I've had in a while.

Not quite ready to release the sheets, I grab my phone to check for messages and there are several. Ellen, Tony, Chelsea, mom, dad, my nieces...Blake!

I click open on his text first, greedily taking in the words.

**Happy birthday Sunshine! I feel like this is the start of a new and amazing year for you. Sometimes life takes you down unexpected roads; I'm just glad I met you on that path.**

I read those two sentences a few times before replying. I can hardly believe the crazy butterflies that I'm feeling just from a text!

**You're the sweetest. Thank you!! xoxo  
****Btw thanks for last night. What a great first date : )**

While I'm waiting for his response, I scroll through my other texts. I'm typing back to my mom when Blake's message comes through.

**I agree, it was pretty amazing. I wanna see you again. Soon. I'm sure you've got lots going on but when do you have some time?**

**Maybe today? This afternoon, I've got rehearsals for my performance in NY. You could come see me there, or if not we can figure something out for tomorrow.**

**Today works. You expect me to make it until tomorrow without seeing you?**

Unless you count that stalker I have a restraining order out against, I've never been actually _pursued_ before. Mr. Rossdale never chased me; he always ran so hot and cold. I would go for days without hearing from him and then he'd be on me like flies on shit. We developed a push-pull cycle that was really unhealthy. Everything with him was so extreme and it always messed with my head; I was never totally sure of where we stood while we were dating. But Blake is always in contact, and seems to want to make time for me; that is such a great change of pace. I type back:

**Lol. Tbh I really wanna see you today too.**

**What's tbh mean? "That Blake's handsome?" "Thinking 'bout him?"**

**Tbh = To be honest. Haha! Ur so funny.**

**gotcha. Are you smiling right now?**

Is he kidding me? I've probably been smiling since I woke up and remembered our awesome date last night. I've _definitely_ been smiling since I got his text message though, and that same stupid grin is still eating up my face right now.

**Yeah. Big smile.**

**Then I'm smiling too.**

**: ))) Soooooo come to my rehearsal today. It starts at 1:00 but you can come on through whenever. I'll be there a few hours.**

****

**Deal. I'll see you there.**

**I can't wait!!!!!**

I send the cowboy one last text with the address of the soundstage before I swing my legs out of my comfy bed. That was the first thing I did after I threw him out of the house; I bought a new mattress and new sheets. I didn't want to sleep one more night on the bed that I'm pretty sure he used to defile our marriage vows. Asshole.

It's funny, I haven't been as consumed with my ex or his infidelities lately. Slowly but surely, I'm moving on, thank God. A few days ago I wrote a song that totally encapsulates all that I want to say about the crap he put me through this year. It's the most honest song I've come up with yet, and everyone is saying that it's gonna be a hit. Maybe I will get a chance to sing it for Blake at the run-through today. At any rate, I've got so much great stuff to look forward to, and I don't want to waste one more drop of energy on someone who almost sent me over the emotional edge.

Anyways, I'd rather be thinking about Blake.

I grab my phone and head downstairs where I hear Apollo giggling. I can't wait to see his sleepy-eyed face, and I smile at the thought, but as soon as I hit the bottom curve of stairs, my movements freeze.

My living room is bursting at the seams; pink, yellow and white roses fill scores of vases scattered around the room, and similarly colored balloons hang - some higher, some lower - from the ceiling, their strings dangling just out of reach. The whole room looks like something out of a dreamscape. The two older boys have managed to grab onto a few of the lower hanging strings, and are running through the living room and dining room, balloons flying high behind them.

"Momma! You got lots of balloons..."

"...and flowers! Who sent you flowers?"

I try to close my mouth - currently hanging wide open from shock - and manage to walk over to the bouquet closest to me; it's the largest one with a mixture of the various roses, instead of just being a bouquet of one color. Even before I lift out the card, I know whose actions are behind this, and my hand shakes a little opening up the envelope.

**Happy birthday Gwen! There are so many reasons to celebrate you on your birthday; I just wanted to share a few with you. Let me start with this one: you're such a badass singer and performer. I had so much fun doing "Hella Good" with you last year on the show. Here's to the start of an awesome new year! You are more than special to me. Love, Your Hot Cowboy**

 

_My_ hot cowboy? I not-so-secretly love it. I reread his sloppy script once more before going to retrieve the cards from the other bouquets. My stomach flutters in anticipation, so I focus on rubbing the loose curls on my baby's head, as I pick him up and give his cheek a kiss. Zuma and Kingston join me in the hunt for my treasures, and I stop to smell each of the bouquets along the way. We collect eleven more numbered cards and they lose interest, going back to their newfound toys. Feeling super emotional already, I go to the kitchen, leaving the boys to beat each other with their balloons. I need a moment to read these alone.

**#2: You're so ambitious and successful. I had no idea you had so much stuff outside of music going on when I first met you. Clothes and shoes and perfume and and and...You've got the Midas touch.**

****

**#3: You're an awesome mom. You juggle a lot of things at once, but always manage to keep your sons as a priority. And you've got great kids to show for it.**

****

**#4: You're so beautiful. I've never seen anyone like you. You make a tank top and shorts look sooooo good, but then you turn around and wear some fancy dress, and you look just as effortlessly gorgeous. Wow!**

****

**#5: Your smile is my weakness. I love your giggle and I would do anything to make sure you spend the rest of your life happy. As long as you'll let me.**

****

**#6: Your personality blows me away. When I first met you, I thought maybe the sweet, bright, spunky thing was just temporary. Now I see you're just a huge ray of sunshine. You're so damn special.**

****

**#7: You're also totally normal, which is such a big deal in this plastic fake town. Your parents raised you right and even though I was intimidated by you when we first met, I'm glad you're just plain old good people.**

****

**#8: You have a big heart. I've seen you with your team and the crew members on the show, as well as with your fans and you never fail to treat everyone with anything but kindness. You deserve only the best in return.**

****

**#9: Your legs. Your legs are everything that's right in the world in the year 2015. I'm so lucky I just got that LASIK done this summer so I can see them clearly. I want to do so many things to your legs. Yes, I'm a pervert, I know.**

****

**#10: You make my day. Every time I see you, I instantly know that my day is gonna be that much better just because you're in it. I don't know how you do it, but I look forward to seeing you, talking to you, just being in the same room with you.**

****

**#11: Your songwriting skills blow me away. Everything you've written has come from such a place of raw honesty and that's such a gift. Then having the chance to write with you took my admiration of you to another level. I bow down.**

**#12: Did I mention your legs? Your legs in heels, in skirts, in shorts, in a dress. Yeah, I think I might be short circuiting here. Dammit.**

 

By the time I'm done reading, I'm giggling and crying and not sure which emotion is which. I can't believe that he would take the time to even think of this, let alone to write all of this out for me. This is literally the sweetest thing that anyone has ever done for me. I am so freaking emotional right now and it's all his fault. Grabbing my phone, I shoot him off a text. I'd FaceTime him, but I haven't even brushed my teeth yet, let alone done my hair or makeup.

**Holy smokes Cowboy, I can't deal. I don't know whether I'm laughing or crying. Thank you soooooooooooo much for this. All of it. Every single part. I'm so emotional right now because I usually hate my birthdays, but you've made this one so great already. I don't even know what to say.**

I wait a few minutes, fix myself some tea and read the cards again. He responds as I'm brushing a fresh batch of tears away.

**You don't have to say anything Gwen. It was my pleasure.**

**You should have seen my face when I came down the stairs. The boys were having a ball running around with the balloons and Apollo was laughing his little face off. No one has ever done something so sweet for me.**

**Well now that's a goddamn shame. You deserve every sweet thing that comes to you. You deserve nothing but sweet. And you've got a good point. I wish I could've seen your face.**

**: ))))))) See you at my rehearsal? <3 <3**

**Count on it.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my HotlineBling; your encouragement and criticisms keep this story on point!
> 
> Thanks to everyone still reading and commenting; I am inspired to keep writing because of you.


	5. The Rehearsal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake goes to the rehearsal for Gwen's upcoming concert. When she debuts her new song, how will Blake respond to her emotional outpouring?

Fucking L.A. traffic. 

A goddamn 20 minute trip takes me over an hour; this is some bullshit! 

Hand to God, the only reason I'm even attempting to drive anywhere is so I can see her. Maybe get the chance to hold her again; kiss her. I usually sleep like the dead, but last night I was awake 'til almost sunrise, just lying in bed, thinking about everything that went down between us. I must be losing my alcohol-soaked mind, because I could swear she's already left her handprint on my heart. 

Now it's closing in on 2:30 and although I've texted Gwen to let her know that I'm on my way, I haven't gotten a reply. She's rehearsing, not baby-sitting her phone, of course, but I don't want her to think I'm unreliable, or worse, a liar. I pull into the lot 'round back, park near Gwen's black Range Rover, and walk to the building, opening up the heavy, soundproof doors to make my way in. 

The auditorium is movie-theater dark although the stage is well-lit, dancers in the background and off to the side. The bass of a song that I don't recognize pounds through the speakers, and there's a band and two backup singers jamming behind it all. 

"Woo-hoo, yee-hoo!" On second thought, I do recognize this song.

Blue jeans, white tee, red bra and some flat, black sandals with a whole bunch of straps on 'em; the only bit of leg I can see is her ankle, but I'm not complaining. She's dressed way down and looks so good. The choreographed steps of the dancers do nothing to draw my attention away from Ms. Stefani, as she moves so confidently and freely on the stage. I love seeing her in her element. She's sexy as fuck. My eyes are fixed to her while she's performing, I don't give a damn about the dancers.

I wait for the song to finish before I move away from the wall and into a back row and take a seat. 

"Pete, can you cue up the new one?" With her hand shading her eyes from the bright lights, she looks toward the sound booth to make her request. The colorful lights of the previous number suddenly fade, turning into a muted spotlight centered on the birthday girl. Minor chords played on an organ change the energy in the room, and Gwen, by way of introduction says, "I think this is gonna be my new single; it's called 'Used to Love You'."

I sit up straight in my seat, paying special attention. I remember her telling me about the great song she had written recently, the one where she pours out her heart. This will be my first time listening to it, and I'm anxious to hear the lyrics.

_"Never thought this would happen, gonna let it sink in, you're gone  
I don't know, know what I'm feeling, I must be dreaming, you're gone"_

I listen to the words and feel a mixture of things. I'm upset that her jackass of an ex ever made her cry and I'm pissed that I'll probably never get the chance to tell him to his smarmy face exactly how I feel about him. I'm thrilled that she finally dumped the bitchass loser and I'm pumped that this song is so good, that it showcases exactly how she feels. And if I'm being real honest? A small part of me wonders if she's over him, if she will ever be. Twenty years is a helluva long time to be together, and I know she was so loyal to him. There's nothing much I can do about that right now, though, so I let it ride and listen to the emotion spilling out in her voice.

_"I don't know why I cry, but I think it's cuz I remembered for the first time  
Since I hated you, that I used to love you."_

Man, this is such a good song. Funny how life works; I could almost have written these lyrics myself, so similar was what I went through with Miranda. I thought she loved me the most, too. And Gwen's delivery is outstanding. You can feel the fearlessness pouring out of her and I'm so impressed. I don't know that I could perform from such a vulnerable place on a stage somewhere. The song ends and I can't help myself; I stand up and clap as loudly as I can, the sound echoing in the mostly empty auditorium. I add in a loud whistle just for good measure.

She spots me for the first time, I think, her eyes squinting to see me more clearly. "Thanks, Blake," she says quietly into the microphone, and she smiles proudly, as if she's just completed running a marathon. 

 

An hour later, her run through is finished and she walks up to me a few minutes after, all smiles. I open my arms in a ready hug, which she accepts, the peacock-shaped ponytail on top of her head brushing my chin. Without heels on, she seems so much tinier, and I feel an urgent need to protect her. She reaches for my hand as we move apart, and I give it a squeeze as we turn silently to go.

We make it outside and walk around to the parking lot, hand in hand. I lean against the back of her black car, and as she stands in front of me, it occurs to me that she must have something going on with her family for her birthday. "What are you doing after this?"

"My parents are throwing me a barbecue for my birthday in their backyard. I know they've been super worried about me, with all that's been going on, and they're trying to lift my spirits." She tucks a stray hair her behind her ears, and shrugs.

"That's nice of them." I know she's tight with her family. "Are they right? Do your spirits need lifting?"

"Hmm...not lately. I've been feeling hella good these last few weeks, y'know?" She grabs ahold of my hand from where it rested, tucked inside one of my belt loops. "Someone pretty amazing has been taking great care of me."

Grabbing my chance, I pull her close to me. My arms encircle her small frame as I drop a kiss on her forehead, and she lifts her chin up so that our lips meet, as well. The kiss is unhurried, deliberate, and I don't think it will ever be possible to get used to the feel of her mouth beneath mine. She breaks the seal first, stepping slightly back and running her tongue across her lips. Damn, that's sexy. 

"What did you think of the new song?" She ducks her head. I don't know if she's feeling embarrassed about kissing out in public or maybe just shy to hear my response to her song.

"Gwen, it blew my mind." She slips her sweet tongue between her teeth as she smiles, and does a little shimmy dance that has me distracted for a minute. "I don't know how you managed to be so vulnerable, yet so strong all in the same four minutes. It's a great song, and you gave it a great emotional delivery. I loved it."

She's hyper now, bouncing up and down in place like a little girl who's hopped up on too much sugar. God, she's cute. "Aww, thank you so much! I feel like I've purged myself of so much with that song; I can't wait 'til it's released. Think people'll like it?"

"People love your music because of your honesty; they'll love this song too, I'm sure. Especially since they kinda know exactly what it's about." 

"Thanks, I hope you're right." A free hand twirls a strand of her hair and she twists her lips while she's thinking. I can't help but to tune into her every movement. "But you know what? I almost don't even care about that, you know what I mean? It's part of my healing process to get that song written, recorded and released. Anything else is just an extra blessing on top of that. I feel really good about it." She nods. "Anyways, I'm glad you got to hear it." 

Suddenly playful, she kicks at my leg and yelps in surprise when I grab her by the waist. I lightly poke her in the sides and the crook of her neck and she jerks and giggles each time I touch her, wiggling in my grasp. "Blake Shelton! Why are you messing with me? Be nice; it's my birthday!"

I turn her around to face me, not letting her out of my embrace. "You do realize I haven't given you your birthday licks, right?"

"Licks? Oh!" Her eyebrows shoot up in understanding. "Sorry my mind went to the gutter there."

"That's pretty much where mine lives, sweetheart." I don't know what it is, but I can't take my eyes off of her. As I keep staring, the grin on her face appears. The longer I stare, the bigger it grows, until she's sporting a huge smile.

"What?" She tucks her hair again, smile never waning.

"I just like looking at you." I mean fuck, who wouldn't? "The longer I look at you, the more you smile. Just so you know, that's sexy as hell."

Her hands lay flat against my chest. "You're so good for my self-esteem. I'm keeping you around. Real close." I wonder if she can feel my heartbeat racing?

"Once we get a little closer, I could be 'so good' for other things too." I admit, I've thought about it. It's only right that she should be thinking about it too.

She actually blushes. "I can only imagine." Her fingers begin to fiddle with a button on my shirt and my hands stroke her back in answer. "Um, hey, so the boys are going to their dad's tomorrow. Do you like, wanna come over and chill after I get back from church? Usually my family comes over to my house for a big dinner, but since we're doing the barbecue tonight..." Her voice trails off, and I can see the slight nervousness on her face. "We can order pizza or something, maybe? I know it's lame, but it's all I've got at the moment."

"It's not lame and yeah, you know I'd love to come over tomorrow. That is, if I don't go to jail for acting on my road rage, first." And I get closer to that everyday, in this city of constant traffic and horrible drivers.

"God, I forget you hate driving in L.A. I can come pick you up, you're not that far from me." 

"What? You don't have to do that." While I'm thinking: 'Yes; please do that! Yes; please do that!'

"I know, but I want to do that. That's the least I can do for you after how awesome you've been to me. Let me come get you." I laugh at the puppy dog eyes she's using to try to convince me that this is a good idea. She doesn't know that I'm already sold.

"Okay, what time?" 

She smiles and claps her hands, as if she just won a prize. "Yay!! A little bit after 12:00. I'll text you."

Her enthusiasm is infectious and I find myself grinning back at her. "Sounds good. What should I bring?"

"Whatever you want to drink. I'll be having wine. I don't know if wine is Hot Cowboy approved or not, though." Hehe. She called me "hot" again. 

"Beer, woman! It's pizza and beer!" 

"Whatever." Her long nails scratch through my scruffy beard and it feels so good. Everything about her feels so good. "Bring your beer then."

"That's right, goddammit!"

Suddenly her arms go around me, and she's hugging me, her face buried somewhere in my chest. "Hey, thanks for coming today. And thanks for making this birthday so awesome. I expected it to suck, but you saved the day, like big time."

"Happy birthday, Princess." We kiss sweetly, but briefly, one last time before we get in our cars, and she waves goodbye as she pulls away. This time, I barely notice the traffic or how long it takes for me to get home. My mind is on other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading and commenting. I'm still building the foundation for a big pay-off in later chapters. Check back Tuesday for my next post.
> 
>  
> 
> HotlineBling, you know you're my girl, right? I owe you!


	6. Let It Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen invites Blake over for pizza and a heart-to-heart chat. Will she be able to accept what he has to say? Will she be able to express what she's figured out about herself?

"You know, I had written part of the chorus to 'Used to Love You' the morning after I found out that he'd been fucking this young, like, model bitch." I'd had two glasses of wine already, and my lips were becoming quite loose. I don't typically curse _this_ much.

"Actually, there were at least two other women; I'm pretty positive there were more than that but, I've only got proof of two others. This fucker paid for an abortion for one of them last year, like four months after Apollo was born. Can you believe that shit? That's when things became very fucking clear for me - who this man really was - and it finally hit me that all the marriage counseling in the world couldn't heal something so...defective. Especially, when like, he would show up to sessions and just sit silently the entire time. I'd be pouring my heart out and crying and shit, and he'd be checking his watch to see when time was up. I was so fucking over it by then, and the day I wrote that lyric, is the day I called the divorce attorney." Just thinking back to that made my stomach twist in knots. I put down the wine glass on the end table, and scooted back closer to Blake.

We had finished the pizza and moved to the couch, me snuggled into his side with my legs tucked beneath me, and his arm around me. His body is so warm and smells so good. He's also so big; I'm like a third his size. Being this close to him has been sending my mind and body into overdrive; that's a fucking miracle, considering the topic of conversation. 

"Shit, Gwen. How'd you find out about all that?" He looks down at me with horror written all over his handsome features. 

"Hired a private detective." The best 10 grand I'd ever spent. "It's crazy, you know? I fuckin' knew better, I mean I've written all these like, "stop-hurting-me-I-know-you're-keeping-secrets-why-can't-I-tame-you?" songs about this dude for the past, like, twenty years. Like, I've literally gone into the studio sobbing because of his shit. Then, I'd write a song about him being shitty, but that's all I would do. I mean what the fuck? I thought I could love him enough to make him love only me, in return. I did that for our whole relationship and I accept the blame for that; I was so stubborn, so stupid." I had actually blamed myself for everything when I initially found out. It had taken a while for me to figure out that I could've been the perfect wife, and he still would've lived life led by his dick and not his brain.

"Hell, we all ignore the warning signs, thinking shit'll get better. We hope for the best and flip the bird to our common sense in the process. I should know; I did the same fuckin' thing." He crushes the beer can he's holding in his free hand before leaning our bodies forward to deposit it on the coffee table, where his legs are propped up.

"Lesson learned. I've still got like four more months before I'm officially _not_ Mrs. Rossdale anymore. You're lucky your divorce took less than two weeks." I think it's so unfair that California has a six month waiting period. And why the fuck didn't I get a prenup, like everyone begged me to? Hindsight is a bitch. "Did you ever tell me how you found out about Miranda?" 

His blue eyes bore into mine. "I walked in on 'em."

I move away from his side and sit up straight. I'm sure the shock is plain on my face. "Wait, what? Blake you never told me that! Oh my god! That's crazy!"

"I surprised her on one of her tour dates, right? I'm thinking, 'Man, she's gonna be so excited and surprised to see me here.' Well, I was half right. I snuck into her trailer a few hours before her show, and there they were, scrambling to get dressed when I walked in the bedroom." His voice is as dry as the desert as he speaks, and he runs his fingers through his thick hair. I'm sure the memory is super disturbing for him.

My hands snake out to find his. I don't know what I would've done had I ever walked in on Gavin. Homicide, probably. "Oh my god, Blake."

His thumb grazes the top of my hand, keeping rhythm while his southern accent fills my ears. "For the longest time, I'd heard the rumors about her and certain people, but I just accepted them as gossip. I never even asked her about 'em because I just knew they were lies, despite all the red flags that kept poppin' up. And then with both of us so busy on the road and all, there were some months I would only see her for a couple hours at a time. How can a relationship survive that? You know how it is, you chase success in your career, but you still gotta nurture your relationship. Well, we didn't nurture our relationship, that's for fuckin' sure, and what you don't feed, dies." 

"Nurturing a relationship takes time and attention. Yeah, all I ever wanted was his time and attention, and I got neither, even when he was home all day. Like, I'd schedule days off and let him know in advance so we could do something, or not do anything; just be together, y'know? And then when the day would come, suddenly he'd lock himself in the studio or want to work on his backhand. All he ever did was play tennis, play his guitar, and play me." 

Blake and I have these divorce story swap meets every now and then, but I think for the first time, we are really able to go deeper into what happened with our relationships. Time is making it easier. Us getting so close is making it easier, too. "Honestly, as much as this situation hurts me and my kids, and as much as I wish this never happened, I'm glad the torture is over. I tortured myself in that relationship for two decades. And now I've grieved over it for months. I'm done being consumed with it, you know, and I need to work on forgiving him so I can, like, move on."

As if to illustrate my words, I move back into his side, his arm automatically pulling me even closer into him. His typical plaid shirt is soft against my cheek and each time he inhales and exhales, I feel myself lulled into a more peaceful state. I never knew that he would become such an important person to me, but here we are.

"Forgiveness?" I look up at him, noticing his scowl. "That's a gonna be a bitch to wrap my head around, huh? How do you forgive that shit?" 

"I don't totally know, but I just, like, pray about it. It's just like when I think about him, or talk to the kids about him, I have to be able to not hate him anymore so that I can heal. I have to be able to honestly say 'Dude, good luck in your life. You gave me the three most awesome gifts in the world, so thank you for that. I don't wish you any harm.' Then, you become free of all that negative energy and you can have peace, y'know what I mean? It's not an easy thing to do, that's for sure, but you don't want to be stuck hating Miranda forever. You'll self-destruct that way and meanwhile, she'll have moved on. I don't want that for you." He returns my gaze at those words.

"Yeah, me either." Readjusting his sitting position, he jostles me around in his arms, unwilling to let me go, if even for a moment. "Well, I've moved on from angry. I've moved on from depressed. I actually feel pretty apathetic about it right now. It's crazy 'cause I know that writing all this new material has really been helpful in me letting go."

"Right?" I can hear the excitement in my voice. "Songwriting has literally helped me process everything. It's saved my sanity. For the longest time, going to the studio and writing was the one thing that made me feel good. Like, the _only_ thing. My heart was pretty numb for a minute."

"And now?" Sky blue eyes roam my face, coming to rest on my lips. I can't help but lick them at the thought of him thinking about kissing me.

"And now, I've got lots of things that make me feel good, super good, actually, including you." I caress his bearded face, loving the feel of his soft hairs tickling my palm. "You've played a big part in all of this, so thank you. Right now, I'm feeling everything, like really intensely, and I kinda love it."

"I'm glad to hear that." He smiles at me, dimples popping into place on his cheeks. How can just a smile from him make me all warm on the inside?

His expression turns serious, though. Questioning. "Are you over him? Do you think you will ever be?"

Whoa! We're getting to the nitty gritty here, and I feel like so much rides on my response to this. Fortunately, in the past few weeks, I've come to terms with my answer. 

"I always said he was the love of my life, but that can't be true. Like, he was the unhealthiest part of my life. I was in love with my hopes of him, not who he actually was, because who he _actually_ was, was an asshole who didn't deserve me. So, to answer your question, yeah, I'm over him. I'll always have love for him, because there were some good times, and he's the father of my kids, but I've been bitch-slapped by reality and I am wide awake." He nods in understanding, and I hope that I've expressed myself well enough for him to see that I am more than ready to begin again. "What about you?"

His exhaled breath parts the hair framing my face, and his brief chuckle sounds dry to my ears. He takes his time finding the words, his fingers running up and down my bare arm. I get the shivers from his touch and he smooths them down with a sweep of his warm hand. "Miranda was a great friend and a shitty wife, and I knew a few months into the marriage that we would never last. I think in my gut, I always knew it wasn't quite right. Listen, we dated seven years; there's a reason I dragged my heels on asking her to marry me. Obviously, it wasn't always bad, but I'm not shocked how it ended up. Honestly, I didn't think it would go down like _that_ , but I knew sooner or later, one of us would want out. So when shit hit the fan, I ducked and let myself out the door. All that to say, that I got kinduva head start on getting over her."

I don't quite let myself understand why I'm so happy at hearing those words, but I wrap my arms around his frame and squeeze myself closer to him, smiling all the while. 

"God, I'm glad I have you to talk to. I just don't know who else I could really pour out my heart to. Most of my friends are either single or super happy in their marriages, and I don't feel completely right spilling my guts to them. My parents have been married 50 years, my brother and his wife are still so in love, and then here I come being a Debbie Downer."

"More like a Gloomy Gwen," at this I giggle. "But yeah, it's not the same if you haven't actually been through what we've been through. I honestly haven't even talked to anyone other than my mom about it, too much. Almost all of my good friends are Nashville folks, and I don't want them being uncomfortable because they know Miranda too. Then, there's happily-married Adam. I mean if I didn't have you, I would've probably just kept on doing what I'd been doing; burying all my feelings inside, eventually dying prematurely of a heart attack." He chuckles dryly to himself.

"Blake, no!" I'm horrified at the thought.

"I'm serious!" He breaks into a wholehearted laugh after he sees my face. "Just you being here has probably added 15 years onto my life expectancy."

"Well, you know you can talk to me anytime, right? It's just insane how we've gone through, like so much of the same thing. Plus, like, I'm such an emotional person and you're kind of an emotional person, too. I feel like you understand exactly where I'm coming from."

"Yeah, I'm a big softie; I'm a lover, not a fighter." He places tender kisses across my forehead as he replies, and I swear, those kisses, along with his words, are making me weak. "And likewise, you know I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

I kiss his bearded cheek, feeling so connected with him. We are on the other side of this awful experience and we've somehow found a lifeline in each other. How cool is that?

"You know what? I'm looking forward to the day when I can say his name again. Right now I can't; it literally leaves a bad taste in my mouth." 

"Hmm...I'm looking forward to not having to turn the station when Miranda comes on. I mean, we're on decent speaking terms, but I can't listen to her on the radio. The whole time I'm just thinking, 'You're such a liar. Such a damn good liar.'"

"At least I wrote some amazing songs out of all this. What is it with me and like, relationship angst? Probably three-quarters of the songs I've written since he and I were together were dedicated to me begging him to love me or bargaining with him for him to be faithful." Listening to them now makes me want to go back in time and kick my own ass to wake myself up. 

"Sweetheart, your songs did have a lot of foreshadowing." He looks at me knowingly, but not accusingly.

"It's so insane; I wrote those lyrics, but then I ignored them. I should've known how things would end. I wrote those fucking songs." My lips form a pout, and instantly his eyes follow their movement. His obsession with my lips is making me a tingly.

"You were being a loyal wife." His support of me is heartwarming and true.

"To a fault. Seven years of insecurity in my relationship, that I thought marriage would cure. Then when it didn't, I figured having kids would make me feel more secure. Again, it didn't. Never did feel secure. "

"But that's what I don't get. You're gorgeous and talented and successful, Gwen, why the fuck did you let him bullshit you all that time?" His eyes search mine, looking for an answer. 

"I don't know why. Because I'm a woman who's still a little girl on the inside. All I ever wanted was for the one I loved to love me back. And every time he didn't, I felt smaller and smaller. He loved himself more than he could ever love me."

"How is that even possible? You're so lovable." His hand sweeps the side of my face and I literally feel myself stretch and curve into his palm. I love it when he talks sweet to me, and I'm hoping the way I'm looking at him right now conveys this fact.

"Not to him, I guess." I change the subject, praying I get the answer I need from this question. "So be real with me, you've never cheated? I mean not just on Miranda, but like, ever?"

"I've never cheated." I look in his eyes and see his honesty shining through. Relief floods my body. "And I'm sure you know that on the road there are plenty chances to do just that. I'm a relationship kinda guy, though; hooking up with someone random is so meaningless. It just doesn't feel the same and it's not worth the trouble."

"I'm the same way. That means I'm 46 years old and I've had two boyfriends; that's some easy math." I'm actually proud of this, but my mind often wanders to the Hot Cowboy, and what it would feel like to be on my bed, underneath his body, no clothes to be found. 

"That's some hot shit." His eyes turn predatory, and I know our thoughts are going along the same lines.

"Of course you'd say that." His eyes drop to my lips once more, and I smile, knowing he's as affected by me as I am by him. That's such a great feeling. "You think that number might go up someday?" Wow, I'm being so bold! What happened to passive Gwen?

"Good Lord, I'm counting on it." Leaning in, his lips brush against mine, once then twice. So sexy, and just enough to get my heart racing.

"So um...then, what's next?" I clear my throat against my sudden breathlessness. "Where do we go from here? Not with the sex thing, I mean, like....oh my god, you know what I'm trying to say here, right?" I'm so awkward sometimes, I swear.

"Here is what we both need to do." He angles his body into mine, causing my legs to nestle on top of his thigh. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears now, and my body is primed for his touch. Does he even notice what he's doing to me? "No more living in the past; there's nothing back there for us. All of the 'shoulda, woulda, coulda' is gonna make us miss out on all of the good in front of us today. "

It's getting harder to pay attention to what he's saying, but I do catch the thread of it. "You're right. And no more worrying about what might happen in the future. We just have to be present in the moment. That's where we've gotta live: in today, everyday."

"Wow, you're pretty smart for a blonde." His hands circle my waist, bringing me into him closer. Real close.

"And I guess you've got a little wisdom to go along with that grey hair, huh?" I'm impressed with how there's only a slight waver of desire in my voice. 

"Wow, Blake, I didn't even cry this time." It suddenly occurs to me. Usually these conversations involve tears on my behalf. Right now, I'm trembling for a different reason.

His hands start to move on my back, and I can tell that my closeness is starting to distract him. "That's like some kind of new milestone for you, isn't it?" 

"I know, right?" Before I let this go any further though, I stop myself. Insecurity be damned, there's something else I need to know. "Hey, after all that I've told you, you don't think I'm weak?"

"No, I think you're stubborn."

"But do you think I was stupid?"

"I think you did what you felt was right until it became clear that it wasn't right anymore. Then, you got strong like a son-of-a-bitch and kicked his sorry ass to the curb."

"Thanks for being so honest with me and letting me just talk this shit out. This might sound way corny, but I'm so glad I know you, Blake. I've always felt something special between us, but now I feel like you _totally_ get me in a way no one else can." Ahh, maybe I spoke too soon. My eyes feel wet, and my vision of his gorgeous face blurs.

"I knew it; you can't get enough of me, I can tell." His face seems serious, until he breaks out a teasing smile. 

Leave it to him to chase my tears away with a laugh. "I know! Oh my god, you're so right; I can't!" I think this might be the first time I've even admitted it to myself. 

His smile fades, his eyes now pleading with me to understand. "That's okay. I'm right there with you." I lean into the strong hand that cups my face. "I feel like we've both been kinda drowning separately, but we managed to grab onto each other and somehow, we're making it back to shore." 

Wow. "It's so awesome how you just said that so beautifully," I manage to get out.

"It's so awesome how you're just so beautiful." He returns, his voice deep and full of longing.

"So...we're gonna just live in the present, right?" Fuck being passive. I want to taste his lips so bad and I'm done talking.

"That sounds about right." He nods, awaiting my response. I know he follows my lead when it comes to our physical relationship because he doesn't want to push me. 

"Well, presently," my hand goes to the back of his head, pulling his face inch by inch down to mine. "I'm all talked out; let's do this instead." Finally, our mouths meet, my insides begin to do their happy dance, and I know in my heart that tonight I've turned an emotional corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, tough, heavy chapter to get through, but now that they're on the same page emotionally, the next few chapters should bring them that much closer together. Stay tuned, I will post again on Thursday.
> 
> HotlineBling!!! Hugs to my #ShefaniSister!!!


	7. We're Gonna Start the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake learns some interesting news from Adam right before Gwen is set to come over. Will the news Adam shares threaten the progress of Gwen and Blake's relationship, or will it stir up the passion, that until now, has lain dormant.

**Hey handsome! I'm gonna put Apollo to bed and then I'm on my way xoxo**

**Sounds good, beautiful : ) can't wait to see you**

In the ten days since her birthday, Gwen and I have seen each other almost every day. On Mondays and Tuesdays, we've been watching _The Voice_ at my place, pointing out all the cute little things that we notice about each other during the broadcasts: her, attacking me with high heels and throwing notebooks my way, me, dancing in front of her chair and being excited when she called me 'handsome'. Twice, she's picked me up and driven us to the set for press and promo for the show, and once I drove over to her place, to hang out with her and Apollo. Man, that kid is the cutest thing I ever did see. He makes me want another one just like him.

On the couple of days I didn't see her, I'd ask her to send me cute selfies all day, and she'd always send several saying, "in case you forgot what I look like." As if I could.

Tonight is night two of the Battle Rounds, and even though I've never liked sitting at home and watching myself on TV before, it's actually pretty fun to do with Gwen. It makes me laugh to see her feistiness in real life mirrored on-screen. She's funny and sensitive and emotional and beautiful, and the more time we spend together, the more I find myself falling for her. She's a whole lot of something special. 

I'm just pulling on a pair of jeans after my shower, when that annoying FaceTime jingle starts playing on my phone. It's Adam...bitch.

"What the fuck do you want _A-dumb_?" He hates it when I pronounce his name this way, so of course I say it all the time. Getting him all riled up is kinda like a hobby for me.

"Fuck you, Blake. Asshole." Anyone listening in to our conversations would think that we hated each other, but I love that guy like the younger bratty brother I never had.

"What's up buddy?" Taking my phone, I walk to the bathroom and grab my toothbrush. Might as well make good use of my time while I shoot the shit with this loser.

"Man, just came out of the studio laying down a new track. Things are going pretty swimmingly, if I do say so myself." I hate it when he uses big words: 'swimmingly'. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? "How's _your_ record coming?"

"Dude, I've recorded a shit-ton of songs and I've actually got a few more that I just started. I haven't written this much in years, probably a decade." The juices have been flowing like crazy, and I'm as excited as a baby getting milk from the tit.

Adam raises his brows and smiles. "Nothing like heartbreak and new love to stir up the songwriting, is what I always say."

"You're righter than a motherfucker." He just said a mouthful, right there. I spit out my toothpaste and cup my hands together, getting water to rinse.

He claps his hands once and points right at me. "Aha!" 

Swish, swish, spit. "'Aha!'? What 'aha!'?"

"I knew it." He's laughing like The Joker when he's planning to one-up Batman. "I fucking knew it!"

"Knew what? Has all the ink from them goddamned tattoos finally leaked into your fool head?"

"You dumb fucker, have you got your head up your ass again? I said 'new love' and you didn't even blink. So it's true then, what everyone's been saying about you and the beautiful Gwen Stefani?"

I guess my head _has_ been up my ass, because I hadn't caught wind of any rumors, not that I'd pay them a lick of attention anyway. "That depends; what has everyone been saying?"

"Well, you know: the usual." Adam replies, looking like he doubts the truth of what he's heard. "You two are in like some hot, steamy relationship. You're each other's rebound. You're throwing it in Miranda's face and Gwen is throwing it in Gavin's."

"Aw shit! No, I hadn't heard that, man." I already know Gwen is gonna take issue with this. Maybe I won't have to tell her about it just yet. "Sonofabitch!" 

"So, Blake..."

"What Adam?"

He hikes his eyebrows up, folds his arms, and tries his best to look stern. "Do you have something you'd like to tell me?" 

Although Gwen and I hadn't discussed telling anyone that we were dating, I don't think she'd mind me telling Adam. He's got both our best interests at heart. Hell, he already knows more that I expected. "As if it were any of your business, Gwen and I have been dating for a couple of weeks now. I guess we're in a relationship, but it hasn't really been that defined yet. And things are going great, but it's _not_ a fucking rebound."

He throws his hands up in defense. "'Not a rebound', okay got it. But wow, dude, congrats! How'd a loser like you end up with the most fucking awesome beautiful badass, ever?" This dipshit literally takes his hat off his head and tips it my way.

"Shit. Hell if I know, buddy. We started bonding over the divorce thing and it just went on and developed from there. You know I've always been attracted to her, though. We've always had chemistry. The timing just worked out in our favor."

He looks completely unconvinced by my explanation. "Yeah, but everyone's attracted to Gwen; you actually won her over. You, my friend, are officially winning!" 

"Who're you telling? I'm happier than a pig in slop on a hot summer's day."

"Dude," he slaps his head the way I've wanted to, so many times. "You're killing me with the backwoods country shit ."

"Why don't you go fuck yourself, Levine?"

"Yeah, but first one word of warning, though." Based off the look on his face, it's all jokes aside. "You're a good guy, a _great_ guy, and I know you have the best of intentions, but I swear to God, if you break her heart, or hurt that girl in anyway, you and me are gonna have some serious fucking issues."

"Adam, look..." I know where he's going with this, and although I completely understand, this lecture is totally unnecessary. 

He cuts me off, mid-sentence. "No. I am so dead fucking serious Blake. I know Gavin and he has always been a first-class asshole. He barely tried to hide the shit he did to her, and trust me, there's been lots of shit worth hiding. She practically made her whole career off of being heartbroken by that fucker. Gwen deserves so much better than that, and I know that you can be the one to show her how awesome love's supposed to be. I have faith in you to treat her like the fucking goddess she is."

"Shit, trust me I know what she's been through. She's poured out her heart to me more than once about that jackass." My hands fist as I think back to all our long talks. "Every time she cries I want to punch a hole in the wall, because she's so fuckin' special, but he made her feel like shit for 20 years. Believe me brother, she's got the right one now." Truer words were never spoken.

"Well, either love her right or leave her alone."

He's starting to get on my last nerve, at this point. I mean, fuck; what kind of guy does he think I am? On the other hand, I can't help but respect his big-brother protective stance. "You know me, man. D'you really think I'd do anything but try my damndest to make her happy?"

He nods his head in agreement. He knows I'm right. "Blake, just checking, my man; I'd be remiss if I didn't. But that's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"Fine. I get it, brother, and I appreciate you looking out for her in that way."

"Well, again, _mazel tov_ to you both, and a second word of warning," He cups his hands around his mouth, all dramatic and shit. "...get ready."

"Thanks." Get ready? "For what?"

"For a shitstorm of paparazzi to come your way. Listen, you can't just date Gwen Stefani and live your life in peace and bliss. Think about it, dude." He starts making comparisons using one hand to represent me, and one to represent her. "You just got divorced, she just got divorced. You're country's top artist, she's a freaking multi-genre music star. You're both on same show, which is about to start airing live. You, my friend, have now become what those in the tabloid business call 'a hot story'. Before you know it, they're gonna be calling you 'Sheltani' or 'Gwake' or some shit."

"Hey, Adam." I throw up both middle fingers at him. He laughs. "Look, Gwen is headed this way soon, and if I don't put a shirt on, there's no telling how long it might take for her to get her hands off of all of this goodness you see right here." 

"Yeah, umm... some advice, my friend: don't let her see all of that too soon," his fingers wave disapprovingly in the direction of my bare torso. "Wait until you've got her hooked with your humor and charm first, before you spring all that on her."

Bastard. "This coming from a guy with a falsetto that even Mariah Carey is jealous of." 

"Uh, 'Sexiest Man Alive' ring a bell for you?" He points his index fingers towards himself.

"I still think your wife paid them to do that." Anything's possible.

"Fuck off, hillbilly." 

"Talk to you later, dipshit." Not your typical way of saying goodbye, but it works for us.

I disconnect the call and walk back to my room, rummaging through the mess in my closet to find a shirt that's not hanging off of me. I've probably lost a good 20lbs from all the stress of my divorce, and it's a good thing, too. Gavin Rossdale was a jackass, but he was a pretty ripped jackass. 

I let Adam's words roll around in my empty head, though, and I know that he's right. Paps liked to make up stories about me and Miranda all the time, and every once in a while they'd get a picture of something. But this is Gwen fuckin' Stefani; this shit is 'bout to be on a whole 'nother level.

I pick out a shirt and am buttoning it up when her message comes through:

**Okay, I'm here. Open up.**

**Open up? Wait, isn't that what I'm supposed to say to you?**

**Lol!!! Open the door cowboy! : )))))))**

I love the fact that she comes in, smiles, and immediately wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me like she's missed me. Her mouth is hot and welcoming and her body melts into mine, making contact from her knees all the way up. My hands slide down to palm her ass through her jeans, and I swear I need to back away from her before I react too strongly.

"Damn, woman," there she goes licking her lips, again. "You're trynna kill me 'fore you even get in the door good." 

There's a seductiveness to her smile that I've never seen before, and it's such a fuckin' turn on. She uses her thumb to wipe red lipstick off my face, her lips slightly parted as she concentrates on what she's doing. "But what a way to go, huh?" She immediately bursts into giggles, hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh my god, baby, I can't believe I just said that!" She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at herself. 

From sex kitten to baby kitten in .2 seconds; this is gonna be a good night. 

"You're so fuckin' adorable, you know that?" She "aww's" in answer and I hug her to me briefly before taking her hand in mine and leading her to our favorite spot in the living room. I sit down first and she follows. As usual, she kicks off her shoes and moves to sit with her back against the arm of the couch. Her long legs arch across my thighs and we sit closer than necessary, as if the couch were no bigger than a folding chair. At this point, we no longer have use for distance between us.

"I don't even know why you wear lipstick when you come over here. I'm just gonna kiss it off of you." I'm staring at her cherry red mouth, knowing that it happens every time.

"I've got to have the whole look; everything's gotta be put together." I know she feels the makeup is part of her professional appearance, so I understand. As long as she understands that I don't care about the makeup. At all.

"But you don't mind that I take it all off?"

"You know I don't have a problem with that. I would actually have a problem if you didn't do that." She smooths those full lips across my mouth to seal her permission and sits back with a satisfied smile. 

Down boy. I need a change of topic, real quick.

"How was your day?" One thing that I've discovered in our conversations: Gwen tends to babble at times. Sometimes I'll ask her an open-ended question, just to let her talk herself out for a few minutes, while I sit back and enjoy her. She is so entertaining all the goddamn time. Plus, I like her voice. And her lips. Damn! First her legs, now those lips, too.

She's excited and her hands clench in front of her, "We wrote another great song today! I think I've literally got enough material for like two full records at this point. It's so awesome and I swear, this is the most inspired I've been to write, like ever. I'm so pumped to take this back to the label."

"That's awesome!" I guess 2016 will be a big year for us, individually, and I hope together, as well. "Seems like we both have come into some inspiration. I think I've got my whole album written now."

She flashes her double sideways peace sign and strikes a pose. "Baby, we're hot shit."

"Funny you should mention that. Speaking of 'hot shit'..."

"This isn't gonna be a retelling of that story about Adam daring you to drink the entire bottle of ghost pepper sauce, is it?"

"No, not that," I grimace in painful memory. "But, I did talk to Adam just before you got here. Did you know the gossip rags are starting to talk about us?"

Her face looks stricken. "What do you mean "talk about us"? Like about us being together?"

"Yes, about that."

"Shit. Kingston came home yesterday from school and he said something that I thought was so weird. He was like, 'Mom, did you know you've turned your flirting up a notch?' and I was like, 'What? Where'd that come from?' I never did get an answer."

"Oh man." My heart almost stops. I know Gwen's kids are her world and that if this thing with us is negatively affecting them, she could shut us down at any moment.

"They're my kids y'know? I've got to protect them from shit like that. They've been through so much already in the past few months and I don't want them exposed to more than they need to know. I don't want to be exposed like that, period."

How'd I go from feeling so confident in where we were heading, to now feeling unsure of myself so quickly? If this paparazzi-tabloid thing becomes a reality, like Adam predicted, could me and Gwen be over before it really gets started? Fuck a duck!

Her voice as she continues talking lightens up, though, and so do my thoughts. "Hopefully, someone else will be more interesting than us. I'm not, like, someone the tabloids have ever really pursued. Yeah, I mean sometimes there's paparazzi around, but like, its never been too big of a deal, y'know?"

"So what happens if what Adam says is true and we become the big news story. How will you feel then?" I don't know why I just have to press my damn luck, but I wanna know if something like this would make her bail on us.

"Umm, I don't know." She adjusts the shoulder of her tank top as she talks. "I guess we have to wait and see what happens, right?"

"I guess that's all we can do, for now." Her answer still leaves me feeling a bit concerned. For some reason, I feel like this whole thing might be a time bomb waiting to explode. 

"Yeah, but we're living 'in the moment' remember? Focusing on the present; no worrying about what could happen because we gotta just enjoy this time right now." Her sweetly spoken words force me out of my inner thoughts, and back to her, which is definitely the better option of the two.

"You're right; I need to just focus on it being..." My eyes dart over to check the clock on the cable box "...8:32pm, with _The Voice_ recording on my DVR and your sexy self sitting damn near on my lap. Actually, that last part is what I'd really like to hone in on, if we could."

"Let me see if I can help you maintain that focus. Blake Shelton." She slides forward and upward, moving to straddle my lap. The whole world could have crumbled around us in that second, and I don't think I would've been able to take my eyes off of her face now, as it hovers above mine. Leaning down, she takes my earlobe between her teeth, grazing it lightly, while her fingertips climb their way to the hairline at the back of my neck. My eyes close of their own accord and open only when her tongue licks across the shell of my ear. 

"Are you focused now, cowboy?" Her throaty whisper is right there, and my dick stirs inside my jeans.

I've been letting her take the lead with the physical part of our relationship, because I know her history, and I know that for as sexy and sophisticated as she is, there is also the sweet, innocent side of her that I've needed to win over first. But if she's ready to start a fire, I can certainly provide the lighter.

My hands engulf her small body, sliding up under the white tank top that hugs her torso until it touches the smooth flesh of her waist. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" I take her mouth then, hands roaming the soft, taut skin of her stomach as our tongues taste each other. The kiss is soft and slow, ripe with unfulfilled promises. As my tongue conquers hers over and over, I can feel her body warm up under my palm's strokes. I'm even more excited by seeing how quickly she's responding under my touch.

Boldly, she goes from straddling me, ass in the air, to straddling me while fully seated. Although we're both wearing jeans, my body starts to react to the pressure of her on top of me. I'm too damn old to be embarrassed about having an erection while kissing a beautiful girl, so I pray she doesn't feel offended.

Her hands move to cup either side of my face and she goes from nibbling my bottom lip, to licking across it from one corner to the other. It's as if she knows exactly what I dream about when I think of the two of us together, like this. I hear my pulse racing in my ears and I have the urgent need to make her as crazy as she's making me feel right now. My hands scale up her body, taking the soft cotton of her top with them, until my thumbs glide over the curve of her breasts to find the peak of her nipples. I brush over them, noticing they're already hard behind the lace of her red bra. 

Her sudden gasp causes her lips to retreat the smallest fraction of a centimeter from mine, and the warm breath that follows, blows across my lips. Meeting my eyes with hers, she pulls the tank over her head and off, depositing it on the floor behind her. This leaves her sitting squarely on my dick in nothing but her jeans and the skimpy fabric that hides her breasts.

My mouth starts at her chin, trailing kisses along her defined jawline, over to her ear and down her long neck to the three moles that decorate her skin. Teeth nip lightly at the thin flesh there, and her hands rise and clutch at my unruly hair, in response. I lick away the bite, before descending her neck to her collarbone, where I do it all over again. And again, her fingers tighten in my hair, holding me close to her body. 

"Blake..." She whispers my name and I swear, I could almost come in my pants. Moving her bra strap off her shoulder with my lips, my tongue tastes her pale skin before returning to command her mouth once more. Then, they head over to her other bra strap, before retreating to the soft sexiness of her lips again. Each time, her mouth opens against mine in eager welcome. I haven't enjoyed kissing anyone this much since I first discovered how. She suckles my bottom lip briefly before her tongue licks mine, her sweet breath surrounding all my senses. 

Fuck watching _The Voice_ ; I'd rather burn in her fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HotlineBling, you my everything!
> 
> Now, that most of the foundation has been laid, this story is going to be moving full speed ahead. I hope you guys aren't shy, because it's gonna get steamy up in here!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting. It feeds my creative spirit.


	8. Let It Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen's mission to "live in the moment" takes her a little further with Blake than she imagined it would. How will she feel the next day when the weight of all that's been happening hits her? Who can she turn to for some sound advice?

I don't know what started it, but the Hot Cowboy has me so on fire for him tonight. Who am I kidding? Always. I'm never the one to instigate something so super sexual; I'd rather the guy make the first move, but for some reason, he makes my body burn. I just can't keep my hands off him. 

And he can't keep his off of me. His hands cup my breasts like they're some amazing gift, wrapped in this lacy red bra. I'm so small chested, but his eyes don't seem to notice the difference, and it makes me grow even more confident in my actions. His mouth sweeps down my chest, to the empty space between where his large hands are holding me on either side. His tongue darts out to lick me there, and the feeling is amazing.

I cradle his head to me, wanting his tongue to explore more, and close my eyes against the feeling of moisture pooling between my legs in a rush. I've been wet since I got in my Range to drive over here, but I think my panties are soaked, at this point. His fingers move from simply holding my breasts, to creeping up to the top of the fabric. He peels back the flimsy lace on one side so slowly, it's making me dizzy. His upper body pulls away to watch what he's doing and his baby blue eyes burn a hole inside me. The fabric lowers, uncovering me, first white skin, then pink nipple, then more white. The sight of his country-roughened hand on my bare flesh as he palms me is almost my undoing. In the back of my head, I hear myself moan as his thumb makes contact with the hardened peak. His fingers moving on me are insistent and impatient, but gentle: lightly twisting, pulling and playing, until my nipple stretches fully, desperate for the feel of his mouth.

I watch as his tongue appears, wet and curious as it licks the small mound of flesh in front of his face and I squirm on his lap. He's avoiding my nipple on purpose and it's driving me crazy. I assume he's doing it on purpose, because he looks me in my eyes as his tongue slides under my nipple, almost touching it before he retreats. His tongue begins to draw a wet circle around the entire peak. He continues this way, each time the circle winding closer and closer to touching it, teasing me. And then, his tongue finally does. My breath catches and then exhales on a groan. His tongue bathes my nipple, licking up and down, left and right, as his other hand moves to pull down the bra cup on the other side. While his hands caress my newly uncovered breast, his mouth begins to suck on the nipple it's been loving all this time. 

I'm not prepared for how that makes me feel. The sensation of his mouth pulling on me shoots electricity from my hardened nipple to directly between my legs. Needing the stimulation, my hips begin a painfully slow grind on the hardness that has risen under his jeans. My arms are somewhat confined, so I pull them completely out of my bra straps, and grab his face between my hands. As good as it feels sucking on my breast, I need to have his mouth on mine again. Maybe that will disguise the moan that's making its way up from the exquisite pressure at that space between my thighs, through my chest, now trying to escape out my mouth. 

"Ooh god, Blake..." So much for that idea. But for once in my life, I feel no shyness, no embarrassment at my reaction, especially since he responds by wrapping his arms more tightly around me and groaning out his approval. His mouth is now taking turns, sucking at one nipple before attending to the other. That, along with the rhythm I'm grinding out on his lap, is bringing me closer to the edge, the one I too rarely have gotten the chance to fall over in the past 20 years.

"Damn baby girl...you're so fucking sexy." Blake's whispered words come between light bites placed randomly along my exposed flesh; there's one nip to my bottom lip, one just skirting the edge of my nipple, and another one on the curve of the other breast. Each bite sends shivers through my body. I notice that my breathing has become so ragged and shallow. Loud and uneven to my ears, it signals to me just how out of control I am. I'm now grinding his erection more fully, swinging my hips in a full, but tight circle. There are moments of sweet delicious pressure there, and moments of anticipation for the next point of contact. The whole gyrating dance is so sexy, and I can't believe my Hot Cowboy is bringing this lustful reaction out of me. 

Hands drop to my hips now, guiding me in my circular ride on his lap, and in answer, my hands fly to the buttons of his cotton shirt. I need to feel his flesh under my fingers, want to crush my chest against his. Clumsy with need, my fingers fumble with the buttons, until I finally get them all undone. He pulls me into contact with his now naked chest, my sensitive nipples brushing against the spare sprinkle of hair across his torso. The contrast in sensation only serves to heighten my arousal, as I brush his unbuttoned shirt back and off of his shoulders. 

My body suddenly begins to tremble as he kisses me. Blake's strong hands moving me firmly across his hardness is having its desired effect, and I recognize the warning signs of my orgasm. As my shaking increases, my movements become more hurried, less controlled. I can feel tingles developing across my body, and a sudden rush of wetness comes on so strongly, it makes me wonder if he can feel it too. God, I didn't intend to take it this far, but he feels so good; he makes me feel so good. It's too late to stop. 

I snatch my mouth away from his, barely breathing because of the overwhelming sensations. "Blake...ooooh."

"Come for me baby girl; I know it feels good to you." How can he form complete sentences, when I'm so incoherent?

My breath stutters. It's like my whole body pauses for a second before collapsing into his. Waves of bliss ripple from the center of my body outwards, and I can do nothing but cling to Blake and cry out my pleasure. His mouth is suddenly everywhere, my neck, my nipples, my shoulder, and finally kissing me once again. My gasps leak out around the seal of our mouths and goosebumps riddle my skin. Strong hands move me over his erection until I finally quiet. I suck in a long breath and shudder it back out, as slowly my body floats down to a calm, content state.

"Oh my god." I can't believe I just _did_ that and I try to hide my face in his neck. He's having none of it, though.

His eyes are tender now as he looks at me. "You are so beautiful, you know that?"

My hand covers my mouth. I'm not exactly embarrassed, just shocked and feeling a little shy. Wow, that was so bold of me! Like, who am I right now? "Oh my god."

"Hey," he removes my hand, holding it between his own. "Did you hear what I just said?"

His fingers under my chin guide my gaze up to meet his. I feel like I'm drowning in sky-colored eyes, as he looks at me like I'm a dream come to life, and instantly my remaining shyness fades. Lost in his eyes, I somehow remember to nod my head in response to his question. 

His lips find mine then, in the tenderest of kisses, and I melt in his arms once more. I only remember that I am sitting practically half-naked in his lap when his chest hair brushes my super sensitive nipples, and I gasp.

"Here," he lovingly adjusts my bra to its previously modest position, straps and all, before leaning down to grab my hastily tossed tank. "You alright?" His eyes search mine, accepting my smile and slightly dazed "yes", as answer.

I move from sitting on him, to a seated position, my legs tucked under me as my body faces his. As my adrenaline rush subsides, my body cools and I lean into Blake, holding onto him for his warmth, and for the security of his arms. I _still_ can't believe what I just did; the old Gwen would never have done something so brazen. "That was fuckin' hot, baby girl, and you know it, so don't be acting shy around me now."

I look up at him and start to laugh, allowing myself to enjoy the freedom of letting go in this way with him - even if only just a little - and he holds me tight in his arms, kissing my giggles away.

 

 

I'm in the studio when I text Pharrell, asking him if I could speak with him sometime. So much has been going through my mind since last night, things that are wonderful, and some things that are scary. Pharrell is like, such a deep guy, with so much wisdom, and I know he would be the right person for me to talk with.

**What it do, boo? I'm leaving town to do a session with The Weeknd tomorrow, but we can hook up today if you're free. Is everything okay?**

**If you're not too busy that wld be great. Everything is ok I just need your advice with something personal.**

**Cool, where you at? I've got some time. Helen took Rocket to a birthday party.**

My fingers fly across the screen typing out the address of the studio where I've been writing all day. I need to get home soon, since the boys will be finishing up with soccer practice, but I've got a little bit of time to spare and I need to get my mind clear. 

After I left Blake's place last night, my thoughts were scattered everywhere. I started thinking about the tabloids and paparazzi potentially watching my every move, and it is freaking me out. I've got kids to raise, and a pretty decent reputation that I've earned. I've heard of some of the crazy headlines that they come up with for people. It's annoying to think that my name and picture could be splashed all over the magazines in some checkout line. I'm just a girl from Anaheim trying to live her life, and it's difficult enough going through this situation as it is, without outside interference. 

Then, there's me and Blake. What's going down between us is getting more serious by the day. I'm both super excited and nervous right now, because it's been a total surprise - not only how perfectly we get along, but how quickly our relationship is progressing. I mean I'm still like 'whoa!' about how free I felt with him last night. I just need some outside perspective and Pharrell has always been so good with that. He's always been such a light in my life and I hope he has some wisdom for me today. I need it.

Fortunately, within a few minutes the door opens, and in walks P looking so cute, as usual. We hug and he looks right in my eyes, "G, what's up? You got something on your heart?"

"Yeah, Pharrell. I just need someone to talk to right now, and you know my history, you pretty much know what went down in my marriage and all of that. I kind of like need to hash some things out, y'know?"

"Gwen. You know you're my boo, right? Go ahead and talk." He sits down on the leather couch and turns the ringer on his phone down to vibrate. "Hold up though, is this, by any chance, about Blake?"

Why would he even ask me that? He must've already heard something. "What? This is insane, Pharrell; how did you know that?"

"Ok, on the real, there's been some speculation going around, but I ain't paid that no mind, really. But I've got eyes, Gwen. You and B have always been special together, like...like electric currents, or some shit. Y'alls chemistry is off the charts and now that you're both free from wrong situations, it's only natural for that electricity to provide some energy to connect with something new. It was bound to happen." He uses his hands to emphasize his points when he talks. His insight makes him seem like some kind of tootsie roll flavored Dalai Lama, I swear. 

"Wow, I didn't realize it was that obvious." I know I wear my heart on my sleeve, but this goes even beyond that. "I really hope this doesn't end up being like, some big tabloid story."

"Hey, you can't control the tabloids or the paparazzi. Don't even let that be a concern of yours. You gotta do you." Calm voice, supportive words; yeah, this is what I need from him right now. "Listen, you've been given the gift of a fresh start, and regardless of who's looking or talking, you gotta take your opportunity and run with it. Now that the timing is what it is, you can make something real happen."

"But that's part of what I wanted to talk with you about. Pharrell, I'm a mom. I just got out of my so-called marriage and now I'm having all these feelings for Blake. And we've been spending lots of time together, and it's just...so awesome. We really get each other and support each other through all of this chaos right now. But the more I see him and talk to him, the more I know that I could really fall for him. Like this isn't just some crush; I have real feelings for him and it's so fast and so scary and I feel so out of control. I want to trust him with my heart, I really do, but I'm scared to go there. What if...?" I can't even bear to finish that thought. 

He smiles like an angel and continues giving me some of the best advice I've ever received. "What's your spirit telling you, Gwen? Have you really tuned into yourself and just listened. I know you pray, right? You need to pray and listen to the answer you get. Trust that the universe has the right answer for you. You've always been fearless; don't let fear rule you now."

Pharrell really is the best. He's like some miniature-sized life coach."You're right, I do need to pray about this; I need to know for sure. I've made enough mistakes for a lifetime, and I don't need anymore."

"Sometimes a spade is just a spade, G. But I'll tell you this: as you're sitting here talking about him, girl, your eyes are the happiest they've ever been. For real, they're shining. You're glowing; the only other time I've seen you like this is when you were pregnant. You can't fake that, boo. Everything you've said about him's been positive and Blake is an awesome dude. The fucking timing is great in all of this. But like I said, get in touch with your spirit and find out what's inside."

We chat a minute more and I thank him for stopping by on such short notice. I walk with him to the hallway and before he leaves he turns to me and says something so profound, as only Pharrell Williams can: 

"This is your time, G; don't overthink it, don't let it pass you by. Love is magical and the only one who can understand it, is the Magician, so don't even bother trying." He looks up to the sky and points, then walks out the door.

 

I leave the studio soon after, turning on the easy listening station KOST for my drive home. Thinking back to my conversation with Pharrell, I know he's right; I pray about everything else, so why not this?

"God, I don't want to be scared of something so super awesome happening in my life, if it's something You've given to me. So if what I'm feeling for Blake is true and right and meant to be, please show me. Please let it work out. My heart can't handle anymore mistakes."

Tears stream down from my eyes. As much as I want to love and be loved, I don't want to put my heart on the line for something that isn't right. I feel like what Blake and I have going on could be right, but I've also been wrong before. Then again, there've been so many miracles happening with me in the past few years; is it too much to hope for one more?

I pull up to a red light and pull out my iPhone. Blake has been doing some recording today too, and I have to say that I miss him. Just remembering how hot last night was is making my body tight all over, and although we FaceTimed earlier in the day, I need to reach out to him again, even if it's just through a text.

**At a red light and I just wanted to say that I'm thinking about you. Pharrell stopped by the studio to visit me...he says hi.**

I start to press send before I hesitate, then add a bit more.

**I just realized how much I miss you when we don't spend time together. Hope your session today went great. xoxo**

A horn honking behind me alerts me to the fact that the light has changed. I press send, and move forward through the intersection. Turning up the volume on the radio, in hopes of relieving my mind of all these intense thoughts, Foreigner starts to play.

_In my life, there's been heartache and pain_  
_I don't know if I can face it again._  
_Can't stop now, I've traveled so far to change this lonely life._  
_I wanna know what love is_  
_I want you to show me_  
_I wanna feel what love is_  
_I know you can show me_

It might sound silly, but I feel like God is speaking to me through this love song right now, and it's making me even more freaking emotional. I _do_ want to know what real love is, love without conditions, without half-assed attempts and bold-faced lies, and maybe the Handsome Cowboy might be the one to show me what I've been missing. It certainly feels that way so far. God is this You talking to me? 

Half an hour later, I'm pulling into my house. I've managed to make it home before the boys, somehow, and I'm happy about that. All I want to do is go in my bedroom, close the door behind me, and think. As I'm walking up the stairs, I get a response from Blake:

**I've been thinking about you too. Actually, you occupy all my favorite thoughts lately, and hi back to Pharrell. I miss you. You doing something tonight?**

**Just being a mom tonight. Plus, I think I need to be alone to like think and cry. I've been having an emotional day and there's some things I need to sort through.**

**What's wrong Gwen?**

How do I respond to this? Do I spill my guts, or do I just keep it to myself for now? I don't want him worrying, but I don't want to say too much at this point.

**Really, nothing. Seriously. I'm just having a moment.**

**Hmm. Ok. Well when your moment is done, text me to let me know you're alright please?**

Such a gentleman. A little of that goes a long way.

**Lol I can do that. Ttyl xoxo**

 

I spend my evening doing exactly what I told Blake I'd be doing. I eat dinner with Kingston, Zuma, and Apollo, make sure that I read through notes sent home from their teachers and sign off on their notebooks when their homework is complete. I put Apollo down for the night and make sure the older two are ready for bed before they go watch a movie. And then, I take a glass of white wine with me to my bathtub, and sit and pray and think and cry and soak, until the tips of my fingers are wrinkly. About an hour later, I finally climb out and get myself ready for bed, pulling on my favorite, worn out No Doubt tour tee to sleep in. I tug my hair out of the ponytail on top of my head, and run a brush through it before I grab my phone and send a text: 

**Okay Blake, my moment is over and I'm alright.**

In the next few seconds, my phone rings and I'm shocked to see it's him. He must not be home, because his phone has no signal up there in the hills. I answer the phone with a soft "hey". 

"What happened?" No greeting, just a worried question. 

"Nothing happened really. Earlier, I was just kind of losing my shit about some things, but I've got some answers now, and I'm fine."

"Oh." He pauses, sounding confused, yet relieved. "That's good then, 'cuz I was kind of worried about you, sweetheart."

He was worried? I didn't mean to have him worry about me, but it's sweet that he did. "I can tell by your voice that you were, and I'm sorry. I just needed to do this tonight."

"Do 'this' what?" I imagine his eyebrows drawn down as he's saying this, and I wish that we were talking face to face. "What d'ya do?"

"I sat in my tub and prayed." 

"I'm getting a nice visual on that one." His voice is quiet for a beat. "Can I sit in the tub and pray with you sometime?"

I don't think I've laughed since we FaceTimed earlier this morning, and it feels good to do so again. "Hmm. Maybe next time. And I'm throwing a sexy wink your way right now, for good measure."

"Look here, don't play with my emotions woman! This is serious business, this bathtub praying." The idea of him sitting behind me in the hot water is seriously sexy, and I let it roll around in imagination for a second longer. 

"Who me? I wouldn't do that to you. I'm just not sure you'd fit in my tub, even though it's pretty huge." Mr. Shelton is 6'5 and, as I discovered last night, built solid, like a strong oak tree. I'm turning myself on just remembering how huge he felt beneath me.

"That's okay, I'm more a fan of showers anyways. Can we fit in your shower?" His voice drops down low and so does my stomach. Shower sex is now definitely on my to-do list.

"I guess one of these days we'll have to see about that, huh?" Miraculously, my voice sounds sexy even to my own ears. 

He chuckles and I can almost see his dimples sinking into his cheeks. "That's all I'm saying."

"Where are you anyways? I've never talked to you on the phone like, old-school style before." We text and FaceTime, but that's been it.

"I actually left my house and drove to pick up something to eat. Sitting 'round the house worrying about you was driving me nuts, and I couldn't stand it. I had to get outta there, and along the way I got some food."

"Aww, you were really worried about me!" I'm beyond touched by his concern. It just shows me again, how sweet and how attentive to me he is.

"You said you were thinking and crying and being emotional and shit, so yeah, that upset me, of course. Honey, the thought of you cryin' don't sit well with me. Then, on top of that, it made me think 'aw shit, did I do something wrong?'"

"No way, you haven't done a thing wrong, and by the end, my tears were mostly the happy kind, to be honest. That's kinda why I was praying, actually." I didn't start this conversation with the intention of going there, but I don't want him thinking that I cried out of sadness because of something he did. I know that I need to be completely honest with him, even if it makes me feel vulnerable.

"Okay, you lost me there. I don't get it."

I sigh before I finally put into words the feelings I've been having. A flare of nerves mixes with those same butterflies I always have when I talk to him, but I know I'm being silly. I giggle like a freaking schoolgirl, twirling my loose hair between my fingers in an attempt to quiet my anxiety. "Well, cowboy...like, I guess you can tell that I'm so totally into you. Like, if you couldn't tell before, then last night should've given you the final hint about that. I have the most awesome time talking to you and being with you, and right now you're making my life so freaking amazing, I can't even believe it. All of this has been a little overwhelming, but like, in the best possible way. I never dreamed that I'd be falling for you this fast, or that I'd feel for you this strongly. Basically, what I'm saying is, I really like you, like, a lot, and wherever this thing with us ends up, I'm ready to go there. Oh god, did that sound stupid?" No answer. "Blake??"

His voice finally comes through, sounding dazed. "I'm sorry, I think I just crashed my car."

"What?!" He's kidding, right?

"No, but seriously, no...that didn't sound stupid, not one bit. Damn Gwen, you're just... the sweetest thing and I don't know what my life would be like right now without you in it. You're the best part of my day, every damn day. I really like you, like, a lot too and you light up my whole world, Princess. I mean, there you have it. I just wanna be with you and make you happy. Maybe I should have told you that flat out before, but I didn't want to risk scaring you away."

"Wow, Blake Shelton." Hearing him say those words to me puts me in such a great head space, and I feel like my heart has tripled in size. "Well, I'm not scared anymore. I was super emotional because I've come to realize that I can trust you with my heart and I was just trying to digest all these feelings. And I know that I really don't want to miss out on us and what we could be together. All this just like, blows my mind, you know. I can't believe we're having this conversation, right now. Like, who knew this was gonna happen?"

"Ah, sweetness. I don't know who knew, but I'm just glad it did." I hear the happiness in his voice seeping through the phone line, and it makes me feel so lucky.

"Yeah, me too, country guy. Um, and I wanted to ask you...you know my show is Saturday in New York City, but I'm flying out on Friday morning. I don't know what you've got going on this weekend, but if you have a day or whatever, it'd be great to see you." Yeah, it'll be a hella busy time, but he knows how that goes. I just wanna spend whatever time with him that I can. And I would love it if he saw my performance.

"I've got some stuff early Monday that I can't move, and I need to be in Nashville on Sunday. But I'd love to come see you Friday or Saturday." 

"Or both?" My fingers cross.

"Or both, yeah." That low chuckle is doing things to me right now.

"My boys are coming out Sunday morning, so that's fine." I add. "I'm not sure if that's the wisest thing to do, but oh well." I can already imagine the chaos, the yelling, the mess they're going to make, but I feel guilty being gone from them for so long.

"So..." I hear a hopeful tone in his voice. "...that means we'll have Friday night to ourselves?" 

The meaning behind his words sends chills across my skin, and I feel my nipples hardening in response. "Uh huh, after dress rehearsal and probably a group dinner or something. I'll be all yours, all night." My voice descends into something that sounds hella sexy. He's having such an affect on me, I swear.

"Fuck, you can't say shit like that while I'm operating a motor vehicle. I think I just ran into a light pole." I guess I'm affecting him, as well. We are such an odd couple, in some ways, but so perfect for each other in other ways. "You sound sexy as hell right now; by the way, what are you wearing?"

He is never one to miss the opportunity to make me laugh. "Get home safely, baby." I'm tired, but I want to just lie in bed and daydream about this weekend for a while, if I'm being honest.

"Yeah, I'll be losing the signal any minute here, so goodnight. Sweet dreams, baby girl."

I hope he can hear my smile over the phone line. "You too, Blake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HotlineBling - mwah!
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting, as always. Your words feed my creativity! There are some GREAT chapters coming up next. Wink!


	9. Two Sides, Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Blake are in NYC for her performance at the Hammerstein Ballroom. What differences will be discovered about her dual personas? And what does Gwen reveal that makes Blake want to do bodily harm?

Man, I've never really cared for flying; it's not like I'm scared to fly, or anything, but I've always enjoyed seeing the places I'm traveling through. I like road trips - taking my sweet time, making pit stops and enjoying the local flavor. 

Today, I feel differently, though. I'm glad to be on this 3 1/2 hour flight into the Big Apple. I'm going there to see about a girl. My mind is still reeling from our conversation the other night, where she basically said she wants to me my love slave. At least, that's what _I_ got out of the conversation.

That's always a scary talk to have. The initial "hey, let's date" isn't too bad, because if they say 'no' you just mentally say 'fuck you', and move on with your life; no big deal. But anytime there's a 'hey, let me tell you how much I've grown to like you' talk, it's risky. You might be alone in your feelings and get shut down. That's why I have so much respect for Gwen; she didn't have to take it there, but she did. Of course, she'd have to be blind and deaf not to see how much I care for her, but it's always a little intimidating to be the first to confess your feelings.

This is a big weekend for her, what with the concert and performing her new song, and all. I'm just thrilled that she wanted me to be in New York City with her to share in it. Sitting on this flight and like usual, she's on my mind. With a few hours to kill ahead of me, I pull out my laptop and connect to wifi, pulling up YouTube. I tell myself that by watching her old videos and performances, I'm doing research, so I'll know all the songs on her set list for the concert tomorrow. Really, I just want to check her out and drool over her in private. Slightly stalker-ish and creeper, I know, but hey, I'm only a man.

Once I get to New York, I go straight to the hotel to drop off my bag, then walk the 500 feet to the venue. It's late morning and the dress rehearsal is underway, so I just sit back and enjoy it. Something that's always blown me away about Gwen, is how she performs without any self-consciousness whatsoever. She's got that on-stage swagger that just captivates you. I've seen it in her videos, and on _The Voice_ stage, and now I'm getting another glimpse of her in her element. She's going through song after song, and I don't know if what she's doing technically qualifies as dancing; it's more like she's feeling the music and rocking out to it. It's amazing, though, and hot as fuck. Hell, all I can do stand on a stage and manage not to fall over while strumming my guitar.

"Lunch break! You've got 1 hour, people. Be back by 1:45 so we can run through the encore." 

The stage manager's voice booms through the beautiful ballroom, and people scatter like roaches in sudden daylight. Gwen jumps off the stage wearing something red and strappy with black fishnet underneath. She's drenched in sweat, strands of hair sticking to her face and neck, and chugging water from an Evian bottle. No matter what condition I see her in, she always strikes me as such a standout - so unique and so gorgeous. She runs up the aisle to meet me, and I pull her into my arms, not caring about getting soaked in her sweat. She actually smells just as delicious as she always does.

"Thank you for coming, Blake. I'm so glad you're here!" She's all little girl adorable: big smile, clapping hands, swinging ponytail, excited dance.

"Of course, I'm here. Where else would I be? Gotta have my dose of sunshine for the weekend." I'll never tell her, but I had to rearrange a few things to make sure I could be here with her for these few days. A small price to pay to be in her presence, I'd say.

While she smiles up at me, her hands skim down the front of my shirt in a familiar gesture. I'm loving how comfortable she is touching me. "Lunch was already brought backstage. I was in the mood for Italian, so there's pasta and salad and stuff. You hungry?"

"Hungry as a tick on a slow-moving hound dog." You can take the boy out of the country...

Her head tilts to the side in question, "Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, that's a 'yes'." I can't help but laugh at this Southern California girl, and marvel at what a match we make. 

"Cool," she grabs onto my arm as we walk toward the backstage area catering. There's all kinds of pastas and different kinds of sauces, salads and dressings, breads and butter. I pile my plate high with food and so does she. She notices me eyeing her plate and says, "Fuck you Blake, I'm hungry!", making me roar with laughter.

We head into her dressing room, and she pulls the door shut. "Okay, like swear to God, I'm not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but if this dress rehearsal is any indication, tomorrow's show is gonna be like, awesome. I'm killing it today! I mean, I'm just saying."

I never pass up the chance to tease her, so why start now? "Yeah, the lighting and background footage is all great, the band sounds good, the dancers are dancin' their asses off, the stage hands are getting things transitioned quickly and the sound guy? He's giving it his all in that booth over there. Everything is going real good, so far "

This stops her dead in her tracks and she moves as if to bend down. "Do I have to unlace these heavy combat boots and throw them at you?" Sass, spunk, spirit ...whatever the word is, she has it and I love it. My stupid grin should be enough to convey that to anyone looking. "Because you know I will, right? You know I'll do just that. I will beat you, Blake Shelton." She approaches me with a menacing expression on her face.

"But most of all," I pull her into me, her arms immediately rising in an embrace, "...you sound amazing. I love watching you move up there on stage. You're so free and uninhibited. It's the sexiest damn thing to watch you."

She rewards me with a kiss and a smile. "Thank you. I don't know what happens, but I feel like I have superpowers on stage or something. So different from real life."

I feel like she has superpowers in real life; the power to seduce me with those long, beautiful legs, the power to make me do whatever she commands with those soft, full lips, the power to make me wanna come in my pants with a tiny moan..."Why? How do you feel in real life?"

"More passive, more aware of myself...less in need of attention, less cool." She grabs her phone from the charger and begins to check her messages as I sit on the couch. "It's like my personality totally...". 

I wait for a minute to see if she'll continue, but she doesn't. I look up to see her staring at the phone clutched between her fingers, tears in her eyes.

"Gwen, what's wrong?"

She doesn't answer me so I quickly get up and move to where she's sitting across from me. I squat down on the side of her and ask again. "Honey what's wrong?"

She looks towards the ceiling as she passes the phone to me, trying unsuccessfully to prevent the cascade of tears as they fall from her eyes. I wipe the salt stream off her cheeks, just as another falls to replace it, and glance at the texts on her screen. 

**8:43am: Hey baby, let's stop all the bullshit. Let's give it another go. You're not getting any younger, but I'm still in my prime. You're never going to find anyone else at this point anyhow, so let me come back home and we can call this whole thing off. We can come to some kind of understanding, I'm sure. You know you're still weak for me.**

**9:31am: Do me a favor and fuck off. Thx bye.**

**12:37pm: You've turned into quite a little cunt since you've decided to grow a backbone, eh? Well let's see how clever you are when I re-petition for full custody of my boys, and move them in with me and Mindy. By the way, I will be seeking child support. Good luck bouncing back from this. And bugger, I think they'll be missing their flight out to NYC tomorrow. I've already told the nanny, no need to worry.**

Immediately I feel my blood pressure soar, and I alternate between wanting to smash the phone and wanting to find this jackass, wherever he's at, and smash his cocky face in. Before I can figure out how to make that happen though, I'm brought back to the present, as Gwen pushes herself out of the chair and crosses to the other side of the room, where she's trying her best to catch her tears before they ruin her makeup. She still has dress rehearsal to return to after this, and she's trying to save face. Literally. The sight of her crying diffuses my anger for the moment though, and all I can think about is comforting her. "Sweetheart, come here," I start. Instead, I walk to where she's standing.

Before I can reach her, she turns to me, eyes ablaze with anger and voice watery with fresh tears. "Why does he do this shit? Every time things start looking up for me, he tries his best to ruin it with his bullshit. Why does he like to fuck with me?"

"That's all that it is, Gwen. He's fucking with you because his ego is in the trash, and he's trying to hit you where it hurts. I tell you one thing though, I'd love to give him a call right now so he could understand that I'm not gonna let him keep on fuckin' with you. If I have to go pay that British asshole a visit myself..." 

Gwen puts her hands flat on my chest, in an effort to cool me down. I hadn't realized that my voice had risen to such loud volume. "Blake no, baby. I don't want you wrapped up in this mess. He just wants a reaction out of me; I know that much by now, but I'm not going to give him one. Not this time; not anymore. I'm just going to call his bluff and tell him to do what he has to do, then forward the messages to my attorney."

"No judge in his right mind would grant him full custody, anyways. Yeah, he's just trying to get you riled up, honey." Frustrated and helpless, I run my fingers through my hair. So help me God, if that slimy sonofabitch makes her cry again, I'm gonna hafta handle this man to man. I knew that I didn't like that man-bun wearing douchebag after he was an advisor on the show in season 7.

"He's such a fuckin' liar. I swear we had all this worked out - the custody, the trip out here - and he agreed to it all, it was all planned. I don't know why I expected any different from him." She's starting to move more towards anger, and away from tears. I hold her hands in mine, trying to offer my support.

"I hate liars and that's all he ever was; a liar and a cheater. I can't take it anymore." She breaks out of my grasp, taking two steps away from me and holds a hand out in front of her, as if to protect herself. "Blake, please, if you care about me even a little bit, don't lie to me. I couldn't take it if you lied to me. My heart would break, but so help me God, I would be gone," she snaps her fingers, "so fast." Her face crumbles again and she covers it with her hands. Shit.

"Listen to me, Gwen." I take a step forward and place my hands on both her shoulders, wanting her to look in my face and see the truth behind my words. "I'm a lot of things, both good and bad, but none of those things is being a liar or a cheater. You're dealing with a real man now, not a boy trying to play games with you or your heart. I swear to you, I will never talk to you like that and I will never treat you like he did. I shoot straight and I am always honest with you. I want to be with you, and only you. You've got my word on that, beautiful."

She nods her head in acknowledgement and reaches for me. I hold her as the tears dry and I clean up the hurt left by her asshole-of-an-ex, once again. My time is gonna come to get that shriveled dick sonofabitch, but until then, I just hold her tight.

 

"Blake," her voice comes through from the bathroom. Dress rehearsal is officially over and we are in for the evening. "Is the food here?" We had ordered room service; with tomorrow being the big day, we decided against going out.

"Yeah," I flip through the stations on the TV and settle on Family Feud. That show is always on some channel, somewhere. "..,and I'm eating your French onion soup and drinking all of your tea. But you can keep the Caesar salad." I fuckin' hate salad. 

"I'm sorry, I always take a long time in the bathroom. It's a girl thing." She finally walks out, looking cute and comfy in a baggy black shirt and loose blue ...what do you call those things? They're too long to be shorts and too short to be pants...whatever.

"Hey, you change your mind about going out?" She settles into the crook of my arm laying across the top of the couch, snatching a few French fries off my plate as she sits.

"No, why?" 

"I just noticed you're wearing makeup, that's all." Come to think of it, I've never seen her without some kind of makeup on. Well, she's gotta take it off to sleep, though. Right?

"Oh, just some eyeliner and mascara. And a little lip gloss." Her skin is flawless and her big brown eyes stare up at me. I never tire of looking in 'em.

"Okay." I shrug, not wanting it to come across as me making a big deal of it. "Just an FYI but, you don't have to wear any of that on my account. We're just staying in, you can relax." 

"I _am_ relaxed. I just always wear something; I have for so many years now. You know I love makeup; It helps me get ready for the world."

I sit up and look around the room, left and right, being all dramatic and shit. "What world? It's just you and me in here, sweetheart."

She's grasping for a way to make me understand, but I'm not getting it. "It makes me feel prettier and like, ready to face whatever."

"Makeup's not gonna help you face anything in this room tonight, Gwen."

_"It'll help me face you."_

This doesn't actually come out of her mouth, but the arch of her brows as her eyes leave mine, and twisting of her lips seem to say just that. I'm trying to keep the emotion in my voice under control, so I grab my fork and spear the long slice of pickle on my plate instead. "Okay, that look means something."

"Hmm..." I can see that she's weighing out how much she should say. "...well, in a former life, I was told that I look better with makeup on and that I should wear it all the time to make myself more appealing, especially red lipstick. So I just always have."

Now I'm getting pissed, all over again. "Who told you some fucked up shit like that? 'Cause whoever said that straight up lied to you." I have a pretty good feeling on who said it, but I wanna know for sure. 

She gives me a pointed look. "The ex...he said he was more attracted to me that way, and I wanted to be pleasing and all, so I just got in the habit. I started to feel funny without it."

My fork clatters as it falls to my plate haphazardly, and she looks from it back to my eyes as I start my rant. "Are you shittin' me? I'm sorry, but what kind of fuckery was he trynna work on you? He's a special breed of bastard, I swear. I think you can use what I'm 'bout to say as standard operating procedure from now on: take anything that teabaggin' asshole ever said to you and flush it down the toilet. We've already established that he's a liar." This is all his fault, and between the texts this afternoon, and this current conversation, my anger is turning to rage. But I try to remind myself; I can't go there now; I have to keep that tucked away for the proper time, and now ain't it. I'll be ready when it comes, though 

Her voice wobbles out of her throat like the stride of an injured pony. "I'm working on doing exactly that." The way she's looking at me - all doe-eyed and insecure - is slicing me right open. 

"Godammit, baby girl." She's tugging on my heartstrings right now, and I sit back against the couch, and turn to fully face her, my hand cupping the side of her face. "Your beauty isn't in the red lipstick and the eye stuff. It's in your strong jawline and your smooth skin. It's in your lips that always seem ready to either pout or smile at any given moment. Your beauty is in your hot fudge eyes and your long, long legs. It's your style, your personality, and your ability to be a bad ass tomboy one minute and a graceful soft woman the next. You're beautiful because God made you that way, not some makeup artist." 

I don't exactly know what type of reaction my words will draw out of her; will she be offended or disbelieving? No matter what, though, the truth is the truth, and needs to be said. Sometimes, I feel like I'm fighting against 20 years of wrongs her ex did to her, my big, clumsy fingers trying to unravel the knots he tied in her heart. I've got tons of patience though, and she is so worth every effort. 

As she sits close to me, my thumb stroking her cheek, I continue to look in her eyes, hoping my words will register as genuine. 

And then her hand slips up to her face, covering mine as it cups her cheek, and she smiles at me. 

Yeah, she's worth it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out once again to my girl HotlineBling; you always help me see things more clearly.


	10. Pardon the Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is Gwen's big day. How will Blake step up to the plate? And how will Gwen react?

This weekend has been crazy. This year has been crazy. Hell, my whole life is insane. 

Case in point; I'm in a huge king size bed with this country guy, right now. He literally spent the entire day glueing pieces of me back together, being strong and making me feel safe. Do you know how awesome that is for me? I haven't felt truly safe in years. Decades. Even now, as we lie here talking, I know in my gut that he won't make a move on me until I give him the go ahead. He would just stay here and hold me all night, if that's all I wanted; not because he doesn't want something to go down, I mean, I'm not blind to that, but because he wants me to feel secure and ready and in control of my decisions in our relationship during such a chaotic time in the rest of my life. Do you know how much of a turn on that is?

"What's your favorite candy?" I look up at him from where I'm positioned, lying across his chest, on my stomach. His head is propped up on a pillow, and he's barefoot and gorgeous, his mouth too near for my own good. 

He keeps playing with my hands: running his fingers over my gel manicure, interlacing his hand with mine and then gliding his tips over my knuckles. For whatever reason, this flirtation is so endearing to me, and I feel the weight of earlier situations dissipating in favor for this light, playful me. "Peanut M&Ms. Why?"

"Just sitting here wondering what to get your for Christmas, is all."

Everything he says makes me laugh. Laughing with him has saved me from crying alone, many nights. "Oh my God, please. I'm dying for a pack of M&Ms under my tree!"

"Now," he sits up a little more, warming up to his topic, "how exactly do you eat those M&Ms? Do you bite right into them, or do you suck the chocolate stuff off 'em first?"

"Are you serious right now?" His face is drawn in concentration at the moment, and he looks serious.

"I think it says a lot about a person, how they eat their M&Ms." Now he's measuring my hand against his, lining up our fingertips. Years of strumming guitar and working on a ranch have made his palms rough and rugged, and the feeling of them placed up against mine -so different from any other hands I've ever held before - is stirring my insides.

"Wow, Blake, I've never actually thought about it before. Like, you really wanna know?"

"Yes! Your answer to this question will give me some deep, deep insight into who you really are." He looks so for real as he aimlessly plays with my fingers, so I give the question some thought.

"Well, when I was a kid, I used to just suck the chocolate off and throw away the peanut." I remember being disappointed that there were nuts taking up all the space where the chocolate should be. "But now, I think I suck off most of the chocolate first, and then chew the nuts. Does that answer your question?"

His hands still for the first time in a while, and he blinks at me, once, then twice. "So what I hear you saying is...you used to spit, but now you swallow?"

"Oh my god, Blake!" This is why I've always loved him so much; he's hella funny and irreverent. I had never really seen him in total serious mode until we started dating, and I love that side of him, too, but there is so much to be said for a guy with a sense of humor like his.

As I yawn, he looks at the clock on his phone, charging beside the bed. "It's damn near 1 in the morning. What time do you need to be up?"

I'd already changed into my pajamas. I wasn't exactly sure, when I was packing to come here, what I should wear to sleep in. Lingerie was completely inappropriate, but I didn't want to look like a total bum in old oversized tour tees. I'd settled on a snug tank top and sleep shorts in a cute print. I figured I'd show him a little leg after being in pants all day.

"Maybe around 8:30? I've got some interviews and press to do starting at 11:00, and then a final walk through before the doors open at 6:00"

"You should get some sleep, then." We sit up and he gets off the bed, pulling back the covers. Too lazy to stand, I maneuver myself under the sheets. He flips the light switch and the whole room is bathed in black. The bed dips slightly as he gets in and lies on his back, and I move over to snuggle with him. His hand is stroking my hair. My heart is racing. I want him to touch me, but I don't know how to tell him. I've gotta think fast before he falls asleep.

"Hey," I whisper, rising up, my forearms on his chest. "I didn't get a goodnight kiss."

"You know what, I think you're right, sweetheart." Hearing his voice underneath me when I can't see his face is strangely erotic, and I reach out for him, giving him a soft peck on his lips. My eyes haven't fully adjusted to the dark yet, and without the benefit of my sight, I think all my other senses are more attuned to him. The soft scratch of his mustache above my lip is always so thrilling, but now even more so in the dark. I've only ever made out with the two smooth-faced guys of my past, so feeling his facial hair just reminds me that yes, this is hot Blake Shelton, the guy I never knew I wanted so much. 

"Aw, you can do a little better than that, can't you?" His hands slide down to cup my ass through the sleep shorts and sparks shoot through as I feel him through his pajama pants.

Flirting with him makes me equal parts shy and bold, and I reply, "Make me."

In a flash, he rolls me over, his body sliding between my legs as they splay open underneath the sheets. He manages to keep his hips in the air as he kisses me on my neck before working his way back to my mouth. His teeth latch lightly onto my bottom lip, and he nibbles there before his tongue sweeps across it. Full, soft lips cover mine and the sweet smell of his breath makes my insides clench in recognition. I can't take this distance between our bodies any longer; the space between us is too great, and I arch upwards as my hands begin to push down on him. Taking the hint, he lays on me fully, the weight of his large frame deliciously heavy on me. I'm dying a slow and sexy death, his hands roaming up and down my thighs as they cradle him.

His kisses blind me, his tongue circling mine, playing a sexy game of cat and mouse. Big hands come to hold my face as he takes my mouth again and again. I need his kisses more than I need my next breath; good sleep and Blake's kisses. He tears his mouth away from me, leaving me gasping for air and I shiver as his lips drop kisses all the way down my body, over my tank until he stops at my stomach. He pulls up my tank top and kisses me, right above my navel, and I breathe in hard against the butterflies perpetually in flight there.

His tongue takes long loving strokes of my flesh and my muscles contract involuntarily. I swear I'm falling slowly off a high cliff, and I don't want to be rescued. I focus on the feel of his hands as they grip my narrow hips, the wetness evaporating from my skin after he licks me, and the ticklish brush of his beard as he nuzzles my skin. I could stay here with him forever this way - I love making out with him - but before I can even complete the thought, he's moving back up my body.

Now that was one helluva goodnight kiss." He rolls off of me suddenly, returning to his back and his breathing is heavy as he gathers me to himself. "We'd better quit while we're ahead baby girl. You've got a huge day ahead of you tomorrow, and you don't need me keeping you up 'til dawn. 

Honestly, I don't even know how far I'm ready to go at this point, anyway, but I don't mind flirting with temptation a bit more. I guess he senses my disappointment because he adds, "My control's hanging on by a thread tonight, okay? How I'm feeling right now? It would take all night for me to show you, and we ain't got that kinda time."

Yawning again, is all the proof his statement needs. Still I miss his mouth on me, and so I seek him out, tender kisses saying all the things that we can't or won't at this point. I fall into the most satisfying sleep afterwards, never once moving away from his embrace.

 

My alarm goes off and I move out of Blake's loose hold on me to the other side of the bed, fumbling to silence it before it wakes him up too. I shouldn't've worried; he's a heavy sleeper, with an occasional light snore here and there. I take a shower, and as I'm drying off, I check myself out in the mirror. Last night I washed my face before bed, but kept on the double set of lash extensions I had been wearing. I usually leave them on anyways, until I'm ready to replace them, but in all honesty I was relieved that I had them on. The two layers of dark lashes make my eyes pop, and I don't look so plain, even if I have no other makeup on. It makes me feel like I cheated after the talk we had about everything. I don't know, I'm just not there yet. Who knows if I'll ever be.

I get dressed in jeans and a shirt, since my hair, makeup and wardrobe are in the dressing room waiting on me. Before I leave out the door, I take a look back at Blake's sleeping form and my heart trips inside my chest. He's splayed out, taking up the whole bed now. It's as if he reached out searching for me in his sleep. I decide to leave him a note, taking the hotel stationery and pen and jotting down a quick "gone to sound check and interviews. come down whenever ur ready gxoxo". Without even thinking, I draw a few hearts and flowers on the sheet and leave it folded around his phone, so he won't miss it.

By the time I change into my clothes and get hair and makeup done for press, it's almost 11:00 and my assistant is knocking on the door giving me the 5 minute notification. I sit down to check my phone one last time. No texts from Blake and I'm wondering if he's even up yet. No sooner do I come to that conclusion, before he comes barreling through the door. He doesn't say anything, just comes in and kisses the gloss right off my lips. His mouth is insistent upon mine, his body towering over me as he bends down, and thank God I'm sitting, because my legs are jello.

As he pulls back I notice his labored breathing, like he's been rushing around somewhere. "I didn't know if I was gonna get a chance to talk to you before things got crazy, seeing as how I have to play delivery boy today and all."

He holds out the most beautiful solitary yellow rose, tipped with red all around its edges. 

"I went to four flower shops. I never knew how many dang-on flower shops there could be in a eight block radius. Anyways, I went looking for some huge bouquet of flowers to get you, like I always do before your performances. I wanted something really stunning and colorful and impressive and I couldn't find exactly what I wanted, until I saw this." He motions to the flower with his other hand, and continues speaking, his eyes begging me to understand his point. "In a store full of flowers, it was the most beautiful; the most perfect one. The lady told me what the colors meant and asked me if I wanted the whole dozen, but I told her no, 'cause there's only one of you. Just like this flower, you're beautiful all by yourself."

"Oh my god, Blake." I stand up, taking the rose, my fingers brushing past his. I don't even need to bring it to my nose to inhale it's warm scent. I just stare into his blue eyes, drowning in the sincerity and adoration I find there. 

He grabs my hand then, placing a kiss on my knuckles. "I told her to slice off the thorns, because I didn't want you to hurt yourself." 

Some sound midway between a laugh and a cry comes out of me, and my voice is weak, choked with tears. "Why are you so sweet to me? No one's ever treated me like you do and like, I don't get it. Why are you so good to me all the time? My God, I'm falling so hard for you and there's like, nothing I can do about it."

"That's good to know, because I think I fell for you a long time ago." He leans towards me then, and I close my eyes anticipating his lips.

The door opens abruptly and I jump. I've forgotten everything except the sight and sound of this man standing in front of me; the guy who makes me glow from the inside.

"Gwen? We're ready for you now." She stands just inside the door waiting for me, joined by Gregory, my makeup guy, who comes in to grab a few necessities for the touch ups throughout the day. There's so much left to say to Blake, but suddenly, this is neither the time nor place, and reluctantly I drop his hand and turn to walk away, taking my perfect rose with me.

"Have a great show, Gwen." 

I turn back to him, unshed tears shimmering in my eyes, and blow him a kiss.

My afternoon is full to the brim with interviews questions, flashing cameras and feed backing microphones. I rush from one thing to the next, getting only 20 minutes for lunch before I start the rush all over again. I need to be focused on this experience, but the whole time I'm thinking about Blake: where is he, what is he doing, when can I be alone with him again? I had my assistant send someone for a vase for my rose, and they came back with a great one: metallic and modern with an hourglass silhouette.

The concert was crazy awesome; it's so exciting to have this opportunity after not performing for such a long time. I take nothing for granted and feel especially grateful for the love and energy that I feel coming back my way from the audience, especially when I sing my new song. It was emotional for me to perform it for them; I felt so vulnerable up there, but once it was over, it was like there was some type of spiritual release. So fucking powerful, right? And I'm not exactly sure where he is, but I know my hot cowboy is around here somewhere, cheering me on. 

After the performance, I shower in my dressing room and text Blake to join us over at The Skylark in about 30 minutes. I'm almost frantic: I haven't seen him since this morning and I haven't had a chance to be alone to process my thoughts yet, either. The combination is making me crazy, especially since I know he will be on a plane out of here in a few hours. How is it possible that I miss him already? I arrive at the bar around a little before 11pm and most everyone is already there. I go around to each person, thanking them specifically and chatting a bit, all the while keeping one eye peeled for Blake.

You know how you can feel someone staring at you? Well, I feel his eyes on me and I suddenly get all giddy. I'm talking with a small group of the dancers when I turn to see him to my left. He, too, is chatting with someone, but every so often he lifts his gaze and now we're looking straight at each other. His eyes are so warm towards me, that before I even know it, I'm smiling at him. He excuses himself from the conversation, and walks my way.

"Hey, I see you got my text." In this densely crowded room, I don't want anyone overhearing what I really want to say. Drawing attention to us is the last thing I need. "How did you enjoy the show?" Still, if anyone was looking, my smile is all too obvious.

"You looked great, you sounded fabulous and the new song is the one everyone was talking about as they left." He follows my lead. His tone and words are very polite, almost professional, but his eyes convey something different, something personal and intimate. It's his eyes that make me catch my breath. "Looks like you got the chance to exorcise some demons."

"I did." Songs like 'Early Winter' and 'Baby Don't Lie' have taken on a different meaning now, and so does performing them. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You being here means so much to me. You know that, right?"

"You inviting me to come means a lot, too." He nods and his hand absent-mindedly reaches out for me. Realizing what he's done, he holds onto my fingers only for a brief second before letting go.

That moment of contact has me starving for more. I look around the lounge, noticing for the first time a door leading to a huge deck, with only a few people on it, currently. I motion with my head, and we walk outside, finding an unoccupied corner. Now I can ask him the one question that's been on my mind since I left him standing in my dressing room this morning. "You said the lady at the florist shop told you what the rose's colors meant?"

He's leaning back against the high rail of the balcony, drink in hand, as I bend over and lean forward on it, looking down at the ground from 30 stories up. We're trying to appear casual, but what I'm feeling on the inside is anything but. My eyes move to his as he begins to speak. 

"She said that yellow roses with the red tips mean 'friendship falling into love'."

I nod my head, a tornado of feelings releasing inside of me. "That's so crazy...and so right on." I admit to myself for the second time today, the second time ever; I'm falling in love. Without a thought, words pour out of my mouth, from a place that is so real and so ready. "Blake, you're the most amazing man I know, and you make me feel so good about being me. You're literally saving me, one laugh at a time. One amazing kiss at a time. I just needed a minute alone with you to tell you that." His stance there on the balcony looks so cool, so relaxed, but his face is serious and attentive, like every word I say is more important than the next. "You're so much of what's awesome in my life right now."

There's a light in his eyes as he looks at me, one that I'm sure is mirrored by my own. He reaches for me, opening his mouth to speak...

"Gwen, it's crazy! All the reviews and comments about the show are coming in on Twitter and Facebook and Instagram. You gotta come see; the label is definitely gonna have to release "Used to Love You" now...." Two or three people have rushed out here to find me and share the good news. They're all excited, shoving iPads and iPhones in my face. I look down at what they show me and then up at Blake and see him smiling. I can see my past and my future, all in that glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HotlineBling is the best!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads and comments. Chapter 11 will post on Friday.


	11. Show & Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Gwen and Blake carve out a little time for each other. Can Blake prove that he's ready for what's coming up next, and at the same time put someone other than himself first?

Man, I've always believed in God, but the way my life is going right now, I'm convinced He exists. Professionally, things are really taking off in a major way: I've just signed on to voice a character in the "Angry Birds" movie and was also asked to host the Kids' Choice Awards. I figure it's time for me to get into the "kid zone" and this is one way to do it. Kid zone; funny, those are words I never thought I'd be thinking, let alone saying. Miranda never wanted to slow down long enough to have kids, so I just put all the thoughts of being a dad on the back burner. I think I almost convinced _myself_ that I didn't want kids. I mean, look; I'm pushing 40 years old and so I figured, if it hasn't happened by now, then it probably won't. But funny how things in life can change faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.

Gwen's got kids, three of them, all boys. I've met them on set a few times, and really spent some time with the littlest one, Apollo during Season 7. Now with my relationship with Gwen progressing as it has, I'm gonna need to make sure I impress them all. See, I've got a stepdad myself, and I know how tough it can be to accept a new man around all the time. Mike was always great though; he never tried too hard or cared too little, and for that I love him dearly. I'm hoping to be as good a stepdad, as he was to me. 

Not that I've thought that far ahead, or anything. 

As far as today goes, there's a few things I've got to take care of, and I pick up my phone to to begin, first, by replying to this text:

**Happy Monday! Hope your interviews go well today. I miss your face! When are you coming back to me? I have to watch the show alone tonight : (**

**I miss your face, your lips, your legs, your...I'd better quit while I'm ahead. But seriously, yeah I miss you too. I've got the studio time out here for the next couple of days, and then I've got to head home to take care of some business on the ranch. I should be in LA by the weekend.**

There's acres of grass to cut and firewood to be chopped and alligator cowboy boots to be re-soled. Exciting stuff, but someone's gotta do it.

**Little girl pout. I understand, but I don't have to like it.**

**I'll make it up to you. Promise.**

Man, I don't really have anything in mind. Think fast, Shelton! 

**How about this... I wanted to invite you to come out to my place anyway so once I leave Nashville, we can just meet in Oklahoma..**

**What!? That's so rad Blake! Of course I'd love to come.**

**Yeah? Good! I wanna be your cowboy and you can be my cowgirl.**

**: ) yessssss! Or should I say yeehaw! Lol. I'm so stoked.**

How can a text message be sexy? I can think of so many other reasons she might wanna say "yessssss" to me, in the future, and I'm getting turned the fuck on. 

**Attagirl! I might invite Adam and Pharrell to come out too. I don't know. Haven't decided yet.**

**Well idw them to feel left out. You and Adam are hilarious together and you know how I feel about P. It could be a really fun time.**

**It'd be funner with just you, if you know what I mean. lol sorry.  
But not sorry. **

Only Gwen would be worried about someone feeling left out. She's got such a big heart and I love that about her, but I'm pretty damn sure it _would_ be funner with just us two. 

**Lmao! Ummmm yeah, I know what you mean. Wink! I'm smiling big now.**

Yeah? Me too, shit. 

**Take a picture of it. I need proof.**

She sends me a selfie with her and Apollo, signed 'gxoxo' and my heart melts. That little boy has a smile that could make anyone's day, and his momma...well, she sets my heart to racing just thinking about her. In the picture she's blowing me a kiss, and I know in my heart that Jesus must really loves this here Oklahoma boy. How else could some redneck like me ever have a shot with a her? I've got a few minutes before my interview is supposed to begin and I send a tweet out that explains exactly how I feel, but that no one else will understand:

_Sometimes life is completely unfair and makes absolutely no sense…Thank God._

 

With everything going on, I don't manage to get back to LA until Friday afternoon. I ended up staying in Nashville an extra day, writing some of the best songs of my life. By the time I'm back in California, all I get a chance to do is take care of some laundry and eat a bowl of cereal before I get to packing all over again for the flight to Oklahoma, then to New York to do _The Tonight Show_ and _The Today Show_. I extended the invite to head to my ranch to both Pharrell and Adam, fingers crossed the whole time. Pharrell turned me down; some court case appeal he's got going on. That's fine because I don't need him hogging all my alone time with Gwen, his "boo". Adam, on the other hand, is as slow as molasses going uphill in January. I think he agrees to come just because he knows I don't really want him to. It's cool though, 'cause payback's a six foot four, blue-eyed, curly-haired motherfucker.

We make it to the terminal, and luck is on my side because Adam sleeps the whole flight over. I sit with Gwen, holding her hand and catching up on all I've missed out in the past few days of her life. She had told me before that her ex had relented and sent the kids to be with her in New York after her concert, but now I get the full story. She's excited about all the new songs she's written and about the upcoming live shows. For the moment, I'm just excited to have her here with me.

Once we land, we take the required selfies for Ms. Stefani and head back to my ranch. Adam's been here plenty of times before, but it's Gwen's first time and for some reason, I really want her to like what she sees. While Adam drops his bags off in his favorite guest room, I give her the grand tour. I'm a little nervous when she sees all the deer heads mounted on the wall, but she just mutters "Poor Bambi" and keeps on walking. We go outside and I show her the stalls where I still have a few horses and the pen and coop, where my hogs and chickens are kept. She crouches down low and talks to the animals, rubbing and cooing to my dog Delilah. which makes me happier than a pig in slop She's all long fingernails, fancy hairdo and expensive jeans, I wasn't too sure how well she would fit in here, if at all. She sure has surprised me.

She swings my hand like a kid as we walk 'round the bend of the barn, back to the house. "How big is this place, Blake?"

"A little over 1,200 acres. And then I have a lake too." I stretch out my free hand and point in the direction of Lake Texoma.

"You fish there, right?" She stops walking and turns to me, an excited smile painting her face as I nod my reply. "Can you teach me how?"

"Of course, I can. We can catch and release, if you want." I know she doesn't eat meat or fish and I want to show her I respect her lifestyle just as much as she's respecting mine.

She latches onto my arm now as we walk the path that leads us the long way back to the house. "Why is this place called Ten-Point Ranch, though?"

"Well, deer antlers have those tines, those smaller offshoots, and those are the 'points'. The more points a male deer has, the more respect you get for the kill. Then you save the rack to show off that you're a badass hunter." I'm more than a little pleased that she's taking an interest in this kind of shit. My kind of shit.

"So the points are like the little branches." Her furrowed eyebrows show she's concentrating on what I'm saying. 

"Exactly." I kiss the top of her head just because I can. "I'm kinda shocked you haven't freaked out too much. So far."

"There isn't much I can do about it, right? I don't want to shoot anything and I definitely don't want to see you dragging in a dead animal, but the rest of it is so rad." She looks around the expanse of property with a look of awe. "As long as I don't make eye contact with what's mounted on the wall, I should be fine."

"What do you think your boys would have to say about all this?" Her sons have been weighing on my mind lately. I know her first priority are those three, and I don't want to fuck things up by not considering them. I admit, I'm a little nervous about it all. Sure I've got Apollo wrapped around my finger as long as he can suck on his pacifier and play with my ear at the same time; but what about Kingston and Zuma? Hell, if they don't like me, it could really put a damper on how things go for me and Gwen. 

"Remember, I told you we went to that ranch in Montana this summer? They _loved it_.They've got their like, cowboy boots and flannel shirts and they think they're like, real cowboys and all. They know I'm here at your ranch and they're all like, 'Does Blake have horses? Does he lasso the cattle when they runaway? Does he feed his chickens?'" She laughs, her head thrown back. "They really wanted to come here with me. I mean Zuma would sleep in his cowboy hat and boots if I let him. Kingston ties his bandanna around his neck and thinks he's so cool. They're fascinated by it."

"We should bring them here then. One day." There, I've said it.

She doesn't blink an eye. "That would be so cool. They'd love that, and they'd look up to you even more than they do right now."

I stop walking because I can't believe what she just said. "Say what, now? You mean look up to me because my head scrapes the ceiling, that's what you mean, right?"

"You're funny, Blake." Her giggle bubbles up in the air around us. "No, I mean they look up to you because they know you've got a ranch and you've got animals and you're a real life cowboy. They watch the show and think that you're so cool. Since that one time they visited your trailer in season 7, they've been huge fans of yours."

Something on the inside of me lights up at her words. I didn't know I had scored so many cool points already. "Wow. And here I was trynna figure out how I could impress 'em."

"Impress them?" Head tilted up to meet my eyes, she looks confused.

"Yeah, sweetheart listen; I know you're a mom before anything else and your boys are your priority. I don't want you to think that I haven't factored them into our relationship. I mean, it's up to you when you think they're ready to, I don't know, get to know me more, or spend time with us together, or whatever. But I don't want you to think I haven't thought about it. Because I have. Thought about it."

"Oh my god, is this you being nervous and shy? Because if so, I love it. You're _so_ cute, right now, baby." Her hands caress the scruff on my face, and I feel like going 'aw shucks', or some such shit.

Instead: "Well, you can't argue with cute, now can you."

"Come here." She pulls me down and gives me what feels like a smile and a kiss all wrapped up in one. "I'm glad to hear you say that. This is such a weird time for them, for us and I'm not even sure how to go about doing something like introducing them to you as more than just 'my friend'. I'm still figuring it all out, you know? Like, it's a big thing and...I want to do it right. The right place, the right time."

"I get that Gwen, and I know how it feels to be in their shoes, so take your time and I'll be ready when you are." I could look at her all day. Just stand right here listening to the sincerity in her voice and staring into her beautiful eyes all day. Man, I'm gone!

"Thank you. You're awesome, you know that right?" I let her take ahold of my hand again, so tiny and soft in my big, calloused one.

"Of course, I know that. But you can tell me again, anyways." I wink at her because I can't help it.

Soft eyes, warm smile, sweet voice. "Blake, you're so awesome."

"Now just say it one more time." I wrap her up in my arms, feeling so much better already.

 

 

Since none of us really cooks, I go into town and pick up a bunch of Mexican food for dinner. Adam uses the entire time we're eating, and the. chewing the fat afterwards to bust my chops. He's so fuckin' annoying.

"I guess the two of you getting together means the end of our bromance, huh, Blake? I never even got the chance to see if you were any good in bed or not." He looks pointedly at Gwen, "Thanks a lot, Gwen! I have no pointers for you, so good luck with that."

Gwen laughs and Adam preens like a fuckin' peacock.

No way he's gonna make her laugh louder than I will. "Trust me, Adam, I know my way around, you feel me?"

"Uh, no, apparently I don't, because I never _did_ feel you, dipshit. We never got that far, that's what I just said. You know to have ears that fucking big, you'd think you could hear better." Gwen laughs again. Fuckin' Adam.

"And you know to have a head that fucking big, you'd think your brain would be a little bigger, but I guess we all have our shortcomings." She roars at this, and I think my heart actually skips a beat. 

"Now, if you wanna talk about _short_ comings," Adam laughs like a 12 year old pimply-faced kid who just found his first girlie magazine under his dad's mattress.

"Say what shitface? Look at me, dude. There is _nothing_ short about me, other than my fucking patience for you." He's pissin' me off again. I don't want Gwen thinking about short anything when she thinks of me. Fuck!

"Look here asshole, I don't give a fuck wha-"

"Stop! Please..." Gwen is sitting on the floor, literally, and in tears from laughing so hard. She's laughing so hard that it spills over to both me and Adam, and we can't help but to join in.

After a minute or two, we all calm down and I get Gwen a tissue. "Look, listen...I'm glad you two are together!" Adam launches into this 'hey, I'm really not an asshole' speech. "I totally am. Gwen, you're amazing; you deserve so much better than what you had. Blake, you suck and don't deserve shit, but for some reason, God likes you so..."

"That was beautiful. It sounded like a toast at a wedding reception. Adam, I'm so touched." I get up from my chair and cross to the counter where Adam is leaning to give him a kiss. A long, juicy one on the cheek, too. That'll teach him to use the word "short" when he's referring to me.

"Get the fuck off of me loser; it's too late to try and woo me back now." Now he's gone and done it! I grab him in a big bear hug, lifting his feet off the floor in the process. "Unhand me you idiot!"

We shoot the shit for another hour or so, Gwen in tears from all the laughter and begging us to stop, saying her stomach hurts. Finally, Adam heads to his room to call his wife who's off somewhere on a photo shoot in Timbuktu, leaving me and Gwen alone. She leans over and grabs the Ten Points baseball cap off my head, placing it on her own. 

I smile at her. "You look cute." She smiles real big, looking even cuter. "Hey, I didn't wanna assume, but...you're sleeping with me tonight?"

"You didn't wanna assume? That's so crazy Blake, but sweet too. If I wanted to sleep alone, I'd be in my house tonight." She's playing with her nails as she talks. "I kinda wanna do more than sleep, anyway." She looks at me from under those long lashes, a smile playing at her lips.

Faster than a hot knife through butter, I'm off the couch, grabbing her by the hand and headed to get her bags. My room is in a hallway opposite the guest rooms: big and simple, it is a complete reflection of me. I pull Gwen into the room, shut and lock the heavy wooden door before backing her up into door and kissing her breathless.

I pull away from her, gasping for air myself. "I been wanting to do that all damn day." 

"I've been waiting for you to do that all damn day." Her eyes soften into a sexy smile as she looks at me.

"Huh. Look at all the time we've wasted." One more taste of her and then, "Let's not waste anymore."

I walk backwards while kissing her, having a tough time concentrating enough to remember which way my bed is. Finally, I feel it at the back of my legs and I turn to lower her to the bed first, before I follow. My lips never leave hers. One thing I've learned about Gwen is that she loves making out, and one thing I've learned about me is that I love making her happy. Besides, she got the sexiest tongue; it's sweet and curious, and just a little bit shy. She's so focused right now, her hands never move from their position underneath my ears. She sighs into my mouth as my hand runs under her shirt, examining the landscape of her toned stomach. My fingers reach up to search for her nipples, that I know from experience are already hard. Over her bra, I feel them and I roll each between my thumb and finger, feeling, more than hearing her intake of breath as I do.

"Take this off." My voice sounds gruff and deep, but it's been too long since I've had the chance to touch her. Too long since I've heard her moan for me. That all ends tonight. She pulls her arms out of each sleeve, and then slowly, awkwardly pulls it overhead. Neither one of us wants to disconnect our lips long enough to get it over her chin and off, but somehow we manage. I fumble around her back, trying to find the closure for the bra.

"Front..." She grabs my wrist, pulling it to the middle of her chest. Damn, what a fucking good idea that was; somebody had the damn good sense to make bras that opened up right in the front. I unsnap that baby and don't know whether I wanna use my mouth or my hands on her first. I love boobs, and my huge hands swallow hers when I cup her there. It's weird, but it makes me feel all protective towards her. It makes me realize that I don't ever want another man to hold her the way I'm holding her right now. My fingers part to make room for her rosy buds to poke through, and I lick them each in greeting. A rush of blood to my dick soon follows; I need to calm the fuck down. I feel her squirming under me, her hands beginning to roam through my hair. Pulling her arms above her head, I pin them there. I want to concentrate on her tits, and I can't do that with her moving against me like that.

Her nipples are so sensitive, if the sounds she's making as I kiss on them are any indication. The rosy circle that goes around them is small, but I take my time licking around them fully, before taking each tiny bud in my mouth. Her skin smells good, like something green and fruity, and I inhale as much of her as I can. The tiny noises of approval she's making are music to my ears. I love how she's so responsive to me. 

Hands still cupping her, my mouth moves down her body. Three kids have lived inside her there, and still her stomach is flatter than mine. Her skin is so smooth, milky almost. I can't help it; I nibble lightly on her, my senses consumed with her taste, her smell and the sexy sounds she's making. My tongue follows behind each bite, making an apology for being so greedy. Jealous of my mouth, my hands venture down, holding first at her waist, before covering the taut muscles of her belly. They begin to wander, from the rise of her breast to the curve of her waist, and everywhere in between. My hands beg for more skin to explore; I need to feel all of her beneath my fingertips.

I move my body further down hers, my fingers taking hold of the two buttons on her jeans. "Can I take these off?"

I know that I could probably take as much from her sexually as I wanted to, but I want her to give herself to me freely; I want things to move at her pace. A lot of this relationship involves following her lead, doing things in her timing. I've got zero problems with that.

In answer, her fingers join mine, unfastening the jeans she's wearing. I pull them down past her hips as much as I can, my mouth enjoying the newly exposed flesh there, along the upper edge of her underwear. She wiggles out of the pants, and I drag them down and off her thighs and legs, leaving her in nothing more than a scrap of royal blue panties. Tossing the pants on the floor, I turn to her once again and survey the length of her body. Immediately, my hands find her legs. They trail a path from her ankles up. I keep my touch light, almost in reverence to her unmarked flesh. Over the hill of her knee, and up the shape of her thigh, first the outer then inner, my hands adore her. 

"God, you're so fuckin' soft." Everywhere I touch her, she's like the creamiest velvet. My hands get enough of touching her. I slide up her body, lying on my side and enjoying the contrast of me fully clothed to her, almost fully not. Her hand pulls my face toward her, her lips hot on me as my hand pulls one thigh open and on top of mine. She stills then, her lips apart but touching mine, barely breathing as she awaits my next move. I take my time, one hand caressing the inside of her thigh as the other holds my head propped up. I need to be able to see her face clearly for this. 

I reach the crotch of her panties and my fingers stroke her above the fabric. There I find her damp, her underwear little barrier between my hand and her wet heat. Her leg opens further, moving up my thigh as I stroke and her breath comes more quickly, blowing warm against my lips. Her eyes stay fixed to mine, although they're only half open, watching and waiting for what I do now. 

I pull the leg of the underwear to the side, my fingers crawling into the newly created space. I touch pure wet heat; molten silky flesh covers my fingertips. That's when her eyes close and her lips return to mine, her kisses so slow that they're almost torture. I smooth my index finger over one of her pussy lips before doing the same with the other. Coating my fingers in her moisture, I take my time and explore, noting the twitches of her body and acceleration of her breath along the way. I find her clit and she grabs my wrist, holding my hand there as my fingertip moves in tiny circles, first around and then on top of it. 

"Right there, huh? Is that where it feels good?" She nods and bites her lip, and I take it as a sign that she doesn't mind a bit of my dirty talk. My fingers dip inside of her, collecting more of her sweet honey before returning to her swollen flesh. She doesn't move her hand off of me. She slides it up and down my forearms, where my rolled up shirt sleeve leaves my skin available for her touch. Fuck! Her hips begin to move counter to my hand and it's the sexiest thing. That is until she begins to moan my name. My heart is beating out of my chest by now and I'm finding it harder to keep my breathing normal. 

My middle finger finds its way to the tight wet entrance of her. "I can't wait to slide up inside of you one day...right here. Just like this." As I speak, my finger glides in slowly and I can feel her walls tighten around it. She's grown even wetter and the sound of me penetrating her is sticky and squishy and a complete fuckin' turn-on. I'm very attentive to what I'm doing: rubbing her clit with a light pressure and finger-fucking her oh so slowly. Sure enough, she's coming apart in my hands. 

"Baby...I'm gonna..." Her face is pure bliss: eyes closed, lips apart, one hand clutching the sheets beneath her while the other has a death grip on me. 

I change nothing about my touch or my tempo, but her breath continues to stutter out, until in one long gasp she lets go. "Babygirl, you comin' for me?"

"Yesssss, oh god..." Goosebumps break out all along her body as she comes. Her pussy clamps down hard on my finger and I imagine how good that would've felt on my dick, alone and untouched in my pants. Her hips rise off the mattress and my fingers continue their dance between her thighs, until she squeezes my hand tightly, signaling for me to stop. I will this time, but in the future I may not be as quick to comply.

I slip my hand out of her underwear, missing the feel of her hot silk on my skin. The naughty boy in me wants a taste, so I bring my hand to my mouth, sucking her honey off my fingers.

"Oh my god," her eyes open as I pull the last finger out of my mouth, and she takes Ina sharp breath. "That's so fucking sexy." She pulls me closer for a kiss and I know she can taste herself, clean and sweet, on my tongue. She rolls on top of me, wearing only those soaking wet thongs and my hands grab her bare ass cheeks, imagining the nastiest things we could do together. 

"Blake..." Her hand travels down to my hard on, gripping it firmly. I bring her hand up to my mouth and kiss it. 

"Why don't you get ready for bed. I've gotta go secure everything for the night and then I'll be back."

Her expression is questioning, "But baby, don't you want...?"

"I'm not keepin' score and that was for you. I'm gonna get busy with this stuff real quick, okay?" I'm trying to read her face but I can't. God knows I don't want her to misunderstand my intentions, even if I don't _fully_ understand them myself. I chuff out a hard sigh, knowing she needs a little more explanation than what I've given her. I don't want her to get the wrong impression.

"Look, I'm so fuckin' hard right now, I could probably explode with just one touch, so believe me when I say that I want you. But tonight, I was just happy to please you. Trust me," I inhale a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. "I'm _thisclose_ to losing control, and I kinda need to maintain the little bit I've got left. At least for now. Does that make any fuckin' sense at all?"

"Yes and no, but since you just made me feel so good, I'll go with it." She just looks at me with those liquid brown eyes, accepting what I tell her as the truth, and I'm grateful. So grateful that in all the craziness and devastation of this year, that I'm the lucky one on the receiving end of so much greatness.

I'm a fuckin' idiot, I know, but I can take care of jerking myself off in the bathroom when she falls asleep. I'm holding out for more, like the feel of her hot mouth on me while she's on her knees. Anything less would be worse than a tease, but I definitely don't want her to feel pressured for more. For now, I'll be strong. Stupid and strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know when that HotlineBling, that can only mean one thing! Hugs!!!!
> 
> Posting again on Sunday. Thanks for your love and comments!


	12. Back to Life; Back to Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Press time for "The Voice" has begun. How will Gwen and Blake navigate the challenges that come with their interviews and appearances? And what bit of news that Gwen gets may rock their world, as they come to know it?

The pace is picking up starting now. The live shows are set to begin in two weeks and I can hardly believe how fast time is flying. I've been getting the house decorated for Halloween and getting the boys' costumes ready...and getting a special one of my own put together, too! This time of year, from Halloween through New Years' is always my favorite, and despite how this year started, I think it's shaping up to end on a much better note.

We just got off the plane in New York City, and are gearing up for a full day of interviews and press. After those few days at Blake's ranch, I'm feeling so positive and hopeful about everything. It's like the pendulum has swung all the way to the other side and now I'm this totally happy girl again. I've always wanted the sweet guy, the one who loved the fact that I'm emotional and who showed me all the affection that I've craved. Looks like I've found him. 

Leaving the airport, Adam, Blake and I are sitting in a limo headed to the Rockefeller Plaza studios for an interview with Matt Lauer. "You guys ready for this?" Adam asks.

"Yeah, sure, interviews can be fun, right?" I don't see why not; being able to talk about the show is something cool to do on a Tuesday morning. And another reason for me to hang out with the guy to my left.

"No, I mean _this_." His hands gesture between me and Blake. We're sitting next to one another, and I get a silly little thrill at how our legs are pressed together and our arms brush against each other as we move. "Questions about divorce, paparazzi pictures, speculation about the two of you..." He trails off and I turn my head to look at Blake. 

Divorce questions, I kind of expect, of course. But the other stuff? Since my chat with Pharrell, I honestly have just been enjoying my life so much, that I completely put all this tabloid shit out of my mind. Was I naive enough to think that it wouldn't become a big issue? Blake lays his hand on my knee as he shoots me this serious look, and I get a little anxious. 

"Adam, shut the fuck up. You're making her nervous." He looks from me to Adam as he squeezes my leg. "We don't need to go borrowing trouble. So far, there haven't been any issues, and I hope to God it stays that way."

"So far, you're right, but when people see how you guys' eyes light up when you look at each other? It's a wrap, my friend." He looks so convinced that his words are reality, but I just don't believe anyone cares that much about my life. I mean, I'm just Gwen.

"I don't know, Adam, I think you're exaggerating. But God knows I've had plenty of practice hiding my feelings over the years, so doing that again won't be anything new. Plus, we know how to be professional, right Blake?" He nods yes. "Then again, I'm thinking that it won't ever be like, this huge thing, you know what I mean? I mean we're not Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, for god's sake." All these reasons make sense to me, but I know that means nothing in the big scheme of things. I'm just praying that I'm right.

"Yeah, hey, Gwen, I hear ya." Adam nods in agreement. "But look at you two. Blake's only the biggest male country music star and you've only had a decades-long band and solo career, and you're both really good-looking and have just dissolved your crappy marriages and are now on the same TV show together. There's nothing that the tabloids might find interesting about that, is there?" His smile is sardonic, making me think that perhaps I _have_ had my head in the clouds about this whole thing. 

Blake looks in my eyes, and I can tell he's concerned about my reaction. He takes my hand in his and I smile to try to play it off, but I'm a shitty liar. His eyes never leave mine as he says exactly the words that I need him to, at that moment, "Fuck off, Adam."

 

"The whole time, I was super aware of myself. Like, 'Where am I looking? What's my body language like?' Ugh!" We're back at the hotel. While Blake has his own room like Adam and Pharrell, further down the hall, he and I are unofficially sharing this suite here at the Four Seasons. "It was exhausting and I'm not going to worry about doing that again. It's like, so silly, y'know. He didn't even mention any rumors."

"Well, I just know I have a hard time keepin' my eyes off of you, is all I'm sayin'." Blake takes off his suit jacket and places it on the back of a chair. He leans against the desk, arms folded, and looks at me with those baby blues that I'm such a sucker for. "If that means someone is gonna notice and say somethin' about it, then so be it. There's not a damn thing I can do about it."

"You kept your eyes off me pretty good just then at the interview." I know because those are the moments I'd be looking over at him.

"Sweetness, I'm always very aware of you, very tuned into you, even if it seems like I'm not even looking at you." Right now his eyes on me are intense. He looks at me like you'd look at a beautiful sunset or delicious spread of food on a dinner table. I swear, sometimes when he looks at me like that, I can't breathe.

"Oh." I feel a smile coming on. "Come over here and show me how aware of me you are, really." He crosses the room, reaching me in one of his giant steps.

With my heels still on, I easily reach his mouth for a kiss, but before I can take it where I want it to go, there's a knock on the door.

A bodyless head pokes in as I open it, saying, "Car will be here in 15 minutes for the _People_ interview, then lunch, then headed to Fallon." So much for having some make out fun with this cutie, especially since I've still got to figure out what I want to wear tonight.

Blake's lips touch my forehead and his hands move down my back to unzip my dress. "Let's press pause on this for now. I need to take my own sweet time when I show you something like that. I'm not one to rush." His large hands cup my ass cheeks, as he kisses me gently one last time. "Let's get this show on the road, sweetheart."

 

Its 4:30 and I'm in the makeup chair for a 5pm taping with the boys and Jimmy Fallon. Last time I was here for "The Voice" was with Blake in September of last year, when both of our lives were completely different from what they are now. Looking back, I smile, remembering how the coaches were all gathered together for some interview for season 7, and Carson mentioned that "The Tonight Show" wanted two of us to go on for a lip sync battle, and he asked for someone to volunteer. I wonder does Blake remember?

I send him a text, asking him to come to my dressing room when he has a chance, and in a few minutes, he does. My makeup and hair is done, leaving me and the hot cowboy alone together and when he comes in, I stand up and hug him. I love how big he is compared to me; his arms just wrap up my whole body and bring me into him. When I finally pull away, his eyes go wide.

"Hot damn! You look like an angel in a dominatrix uniform." I can tell by his smile that that's a good thing.

"Good, 'cause that's exactly the look I was going for!" I decided to be a little daring with this outfit; it's not something that I would ever have worn before. "Hey, cowboy," I tug on his hand, pulling him down to the couch with me, "remember the last time we were here together?"

"September 17, 2014," he recites without any trouble.

I slap his arm because I'm annoyed that he remembers and touched that he remembers, all at the same damn time. "Oh my god! You memorized the date and everything?"

His laugh fills the small room as he takes my hand in both of his. "Fuck no, I had to look it up earlier on, but I knew you'd ask me and I wanted to try to impress you by knowing the answer."

"You're so cute." His dimple seems to wink at me as he's smiling, and I kiss him right there on it. "I remember when they asked all the coaches who wanted to do it, and I was just like, 'Yeah! Sure!' because it sounded like such a fun thing to do..."

"And as soon as I saw your hand fly up, I was like 'goddammit, now I'm gonna have to get in with this too'." He sits back on the couch, crossing his leg over the other knee, lacing his fingers with mine. He thinks I don't notice, but I see him checking me out the whole time. Mission accomplished.

"Oh yeah? And why was that?" I love hearing him say sweet words, and I know they're coming next. 

"Why? Because you're like some kind of magical dream woman and I was just so drawn to you. I just wanted to be around you then, same way as I wanna be around you now. Nothing has changed about that. There's just always been something about you." Those words get filed somewhere in my brain. Some night when I'm home alone, trying to fall asleep, I'll pull them back out and examine them over more closely. For now, I hug his arm to me, enjoying his smell and his warmth, as we sit so cuddled up on this sofa.

"I was so psyched that it was you coming here with me. I was kinda shocked at how happy it made me, actually. For whatever reason, I always had this need to make you like me best, to get your attention. Then, when we met up to talk about which song we wanted to do together, I was like, super excited. Back then, I thought of you as my 'work husband'". Embarrassed laughter spills from my mouth at that admission. "I literally had butterflies the whole time we did 'Endless Love', to be honest."

"Oh-em-gee, Gwen." His voice does a sing-songy thing that makes me giggle. "I could barely remember the words that night because I was..." his hands start gesturing as he looks for the right words, "freaking out about the whole thing. And then when I threw in the hand-on-your-cheek thing, like we had rehearsed?"

"Yeah?" He does the same thing to me now that we're together, and it always takes me back to that moment on the show. 

He shakes his head, scoffing at himself. "I swear I was shaking so bad. I was like 'Get a fuckin' grip, Shelton'."

That's hilarious to me, because he always seems to be so calm and cool. "I didn't even notice; I was so like, trying not to drown in your eyes the entire time. It was like whoa! What's going on here."

"After you started the song, and I walked up to do Diana Ross' part? You turned and smiled up at me and I was like, man! I thought everyone would be able to tell how attracted I was to you." His mouth descends to mine. 

"...and how attracted I was to _you_." My mouth rises to meet his, in the briefest of kisses.

Blake shakes his head. If he's feeling anything similar to what I am, he's trying to rid it of the clouds that are forming there. "I love how you grabbed the mike stand when you did your songs, jumpin' around and doing your thing. You're so entertaining..."

I remember what I was wearing, combat boots and all. "I was a total tomboy that night, clothes, hair and everything."

"Fuckin' sexiest tomboy I ever saw." There goes that intense look again, the one that's got my breath in some strange holding pattern. "Remember how you danced up on Jimmy and did that little hip gyration' thing?"

"Yeah, and I remember your face when I did it." His reaction was one of the things I remember most about that whole night. "You liked it."

"Damn right, I liked it." His hand is wandering up the length of my fishnet stockings and it's such an erotic feeling. I'm imagining those same fingers all over me, just like they were at his ranch a few days back. "How come you've never done anything like that to me, like you did to him?"

"That was just me performing. You know I'm in another zone when I perform." I couldn't do that in _real_ life; everyone knows I'm not cool enough for that. I stand up, pulling him with me. They're gonna be calling for us soon, and I need to get my head clear again before we go on.

"I wouldn't mind if you got into another zone all up on me." He's not letting me break the mood, his arms wrapped around my front as he pulls me backwards into him. My eyes close. I can't resist him, and God knows I don't even want to try. I give in and simply relish the moment, another chance to breathe him in, another opportunity to have his body so close to mine.

"God, Blake." The heat in the room flares and ignites my desire for him further. I turn in his arms needing to see if he's as gone at this point as I am.

I can feel his palms on my skin through the cutouts on this S&M dress and it's making me hotter than the fabric of this outfit already has. He grabs a fistful of the length of my hair, and tugs just hard enough for my head to tilt back. I open my lips for him willingly; he kisses like he can't get enough of tasting me. He kisses like he's making love to my mouth, and I can't get enough of him: his tongue, his lips, his breath. It's making me dizzy and my fingers sink into his hair, trying to hold onto something so my knees don't totally give out.

"I need you so much, you don't even realize." I breathe the words against his lips, more than speak them. It's the truth, too. I scare myself with that need.

He inhales me as his mouth dips to kiss my neck. "Probably 'bout as much as I need you, babygirl."

My hands sink into the back pockets of his dark wash jeans and I love the feel of his ass under my hands. He groans as I massage him through the material, and I feel him hardening at my stomach, in return. His finger grazes down my arm and I want nothing more than to lock the door and make out with him forever. His mouth tastes like that orange gum he's always chewing, and as he sucks on my bottom lip, there's an answering tug in my core. 

"Knock, knock! Heading down to the green room now, let's go please!" The voice of the stage manager breaks through our kiss and we disengage slowly, like we're waking up out of a dream. Neither one of us says a word, as I wipe the evidence of my lips off of his face and quickly reapply my nude gloss, before we step out of the room. He smooths down my hair and I straighten out the few wrinkles my body has crushed into his shirt. I smile as he opens the door for me, allowing me to step out as he takes my hand in his for one last time before we go on. This guy is so amazing, I don't know how I've been blessed to even know him, let alone _be_ with him. 

My life is just one freaking miracle happening after the other, right now.

 

"I can't believe you made me sing that all by myself!" I've changed into my typical "Blake" pajamas, and am putting my hair up in a bun for the night. We arrived back to the hotel, separately, and ate an awesome dinner via room service.

"What! I don't know all the words to that song like you do." He's pleading his case as if I don't know the truth and that makes me laugh even harder than I was before.

"That's bullshit. You definitely know more than just 'bling'. We've sung that song in the car on more than one occasion! You even sang it country style, that one time!" I'm nowhere near being mad at him, though. I just realize that we probably looked totally distracted by each other up there, like we were totally feeling each other.

He shrugs, managing to look a little chastised. "What can I say? I just like watching you. You're so sexy."

How can I be mad at that? I chuckle to myself now, mentally reviewing "our" little performance. "I looked up at you at one point, and I got really nervous and had to look away. You were looking at me all sexy and I couldn't take it." There goes my 'hide my facial expressions' plan, right out the window.

"Now see right there; that would've been the _perfect_ opportunity for you to grind your ass all up on me."

"Sure, let's fan the flames a bit, shall we cowboy? Right on national television." Oh well, what's done is done. I just know that the little moment of intimacy we had right before we went out on stage, bled over into the whole portion we just taped. My tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve is alive and well.

"Hey, have you seen my phone?"

He goes into my black Chanel bag and digs around before finding it and handing it to me. The indicator light shows I've got a few missed texts and a voicemail message. The texts are nothing important, so I call into the voice message and put it on speaker, listening to the first one as it begins, "This is a message for Ms. Stefani from Dr. Patel's office...". Immediately, my mouth starts to water. I race to the bathroom, making it just in time to spill the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.

In the next moment, Blake is crouched down beside me. "Gwen, oh my god, are you alright?" He removes the phone, just finishing up its unheard message, from my hands and puts it in his back pocket. Standing, he grabs a washcloth off the towel bar, and wets it to wipe off my face and mouth. I flush the toilet and pull myself up, tears falling as I grab my toothbrush. Blake locates the toothpaste, putting it on for me, and with shaky hands I begin to brush. I take my time, delaying the inevitable conversation that's on its way.

I spit and rinse, take a tissue and dab my tears away. I meet his eyes in the mirror as he stands behind me. His brows are pushed low over his now stormy blue eyes, concern written as if with a marker all over his face. 

"Sweetheart, what's going on? That was weird as hell. Are you sick or something? Do you feel okay?" His hands smooth down my shoulders to my arms and he turns me around to face him. Nerves grip me hard and I can't seem to make my voice work. "You're freaking me out here, baby."

In wordless answer, I pull my cell phone out of his pants pocket. Entering my numeric code and touching the speaker icon, I press play once again on the voicemail message that started all of this.

_"This is a message for Ms. Stefani from Dr. Patel's office. We have the results of your recent bloodwork done here in the office. If you could call us back at area code 323..."_

I cut off the message, satisfied that he's heard enough, and terrified that I might need another trip to the toilet, to spill my guts again. My fingers fiddle with the buttons on the side of my phone, randomly. It's like the words I need to say are stuck in my throat. 

"Honey, you gotta help me out here. I'm lost." He nudges my chin up so I can fully face him. "Are you sick or something?"

"This whole situation is so fucked up." The tears begin to flow freely as I speak. "That asshole cheated with so many people, I suspect he slept with guys too, but I don't have proof. I needed to have some testing done....you know? I had to make sure that, like, everything was okay. But now I'm so scared about what they might tell me." My voice breaks and I sob into my hands. Imagining the worst case scenario is easy for me to do, given the extent of my ex's cheating habits.

Blake hugs me to his chest, and takes my phone away, looking at the time. "It's only 3:30 in California, right now." He kisses my forehead, and pulls me back to meet his gaze. "I think it's time we find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never fear, I'm not one of those writers who gets off on tragedy. The point is NOT in Gwen's test results, it's in the way Blake stands by her and what that means for their future together. Chapter 13 will post on Tuesday! Thanks for your comments.


	13. Follow Her Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake supports Gwen through a difficult situation and they make it through. What hurdle will life throw at them next? What decisions will they come to together?

Goddammit!

I'm working overtime to control the anger I'm feeling right now. I'm mad because I know how it feels to wait on test results that can tell you if you're stuck with a disease for the rest of your life. I'm mad because her shitstick of an ex had years worth of a head start on his extramarital affairs; who knows how many and for how long. I'm mad because he treated her like she wasn't the most precious thing in the world. I'm mad because she's gotta go through this now and she's scared.

Well, the one consolation is that she doesn't have to go through this alone.

"I'm so nervous to find out the results. What if he gave me something? What if it's something they can't cure?" Her eyes are rimmed in red and her voice wavers under the threat of more tears.

Here's my chance to be gentle and supportive, not disintegrate beneath the weight of my anger. While she's afraid of her results, I'm beyond pissed at the wimp whose actions created this situation. For now, I push those feelings down, down, down. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For all we know, you're worrying about nothing at all." My hand soothes her face, thumb running over the salty tracks left by her tears.

She nods, but I know my words can only make her feel better temporarily. Definitive answers are needed.

"Hey, you want me to call with you? I can leave the room or I can stay, it's up to you." She doesn't pause at all, but takes me by the hand, pulling me towards the couch, and we sit, calling back the number on her phone. She places the call on speaker again, and I'm pleased that she wants me to be a part of something so personal.

"Dr. Patel's office, how can I direct your call?" An older woman answers, her voice shining through the phone, unaware of the turmoil on this end.

"Hi. Umm, someone called and left a message for me to call back about the results of some lab work I had done. My name is Gwen Stefani." Her fingers fidget in my hand, playing with her long nails one minute and then clasping mine the next.

"Okay, one minute, I can pull that up for you." I can hear the typing in the background as the woman works on her computer. Gwen's squeezing my hand hard now, dreading the next words she may hear. "Ah, I think I've got you. Can you confirm the last four digits of your Social and your daytime phone number?"

Gwen rattles off the requested information, biting her lip as she looks at me with uncertainty scrawled on her face.

"Thank you for that. Okay...everything came back negative, Ms. Stefani. You're in good shape. Looks like the doctor wants to see you back in about 6 months for a regular check-up, okay?" Fuck, yeah! 

"Okay, thank you so much. Goodbye." She releases all of her pent up emotion in a big sigh and I pull her to me, her face burying in my shirt. My body slouches back on the arm of the sofa, and I release a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding. _"You're in good shape."_ Those words come at such a relief. I can't imagine what must be going through Gwen's mind.

I lean us over the edge of the couch to grab a pillow that's fallen onto the floor and use it to prop up my head. In an effort to get even more comfortable, I swing both my long legs up on top of the cushions, barely clearing the arm on the opposite end. "How are you feeling?" 

Her sigh of relief is huge. "So free of the weight of that. Actually, that was my second time testing. The first time was in August, but I went back again right after my birthday. I was a wreck both times. They do two rounds at my doctor's office just to rule out false negatives or positives. Gives everyone more peace of mind." Her chocolate brown eyes close at the thought. "I never want to go through that again." 

The comment wasnt directed at me, but i respond as if it had been. "Honey, first of all, I'm not a cheater. I'd never do that to you." I hope she can hear my sincerity and know that I wouldn't lie to her. "Listen, I've been tested too, just before the divorce. My results were clean and clear. It's fucked up how other people's choices have the potential to ruin your whole life."

"I would've never forgiven him if I'd gotten something." She yawns, drained of energy after the rush of emotions that has just poured through her.

I can't even imagine if this situation had turned out differently. I'm so thankful that it didn't. "I wouldn't've forgiven him either. I'm not so sure I can even forgive him for putting them tears in your eyes." 

"I'm okay now. Still shaky, but okay." Her head tilts up, and I rub my finger down the bridge of her nose. The corners of her mouth lift up in an almost-smile.

"What do you need from me right now? What can I do for you?" I don't know the right things to say or do in a situation like this, but I sure as hell am gonna try to find out.

She's fading fast, sounding completely exhausted. "Just exactly what you're doing now. Just hold onto me; I don't need much else."

If that's what she needs, that's what I can deliver. "I can do that."

I rub her back, stroke a stray lock of her hair, and tell her how much I care for her by way of kisses on her face. She adjusts her position on top of me, sandwiching my leg between hers and the back of the couch and the other across the top of mine, so that it practically dangles off the couch. I pull it back, bending her knee so it pokes out over the edge, and her bare foot lays on top of my jeans.

Her hand wanders up to my cheek, doing her usual of rubbing my beard, and she turns her head, still tucked under my chin, towards the couch. I've never had much chance to cuddle before; the self-professed strong, independent women I've been with hated being confined like that, and I learned to deal with it. But the princess lying in my arms right now is soaking it all up, and I love it. She's holding onto me tight, making me wonder where she's been all these years, as if I don't know.

Don't ask me why, but I feel like in another lifetime, I'd find her first, before he could.

 

Black suit coat, black slacks and blue dress shirt: I don't usually spend my Thursday nights getting all gussied up to head to some super fancy ball at the super fancy Beverly Wilshire Hotel, but the executive producer of "The Voice" and his wife are being honored at this event, and Pharrell is performing, so I guess I'm gonna be there, too. 

Who the fuck am I trynna bullshit? Gwen Stefani is gonna be there, so I'm definitely gonna be there too.

I haven't seen her since the day we woke up together on that couch in New York City. We slept there all night, her curled up into me, and we only stirred when the phone in the hotel room rang with our wake up call. My hand had been under her tank top and the skin of her back felt warm beneath my touch. Later that day, I had one helluva crick in my back from not moving a muscle as I held onto her all night, but remembering the smile she gave me when she first looked up at me that morning made it seem like not such a bad price to pay. 

Wonder what she's gonna be wearin' tonight.

I can't wait any longer to get there to see her, so at about 5pm I decide to FaceTime her. I'm sitting in the SUV the car service sent over, stuck in L.A. rush hour traffic, and I need something to lift my spirits because I'm grumpy as fuck. Who better to help me do that, right?

She answers right away, as if she's been waiting on my call. "Hey! Blake! I'm just about to go inside, where _are_ you?" 

"Stuck in fuckin' traffic. Story of my life here in L.A." She laughs and bats them damn lashes, and I turn to mush. Typical me. 

"Sweetheart, you look beautiful." And she does. Typical her.

Her 'thank you' is a smile that touches her eyes before it reaches her mouth. "Oh my god, wait 'til you see what I'm wearing. I'm wearing purple, for like, the first time ever! It's so crazy! And I just saw Mark and he's wearing purple too, so it was like, meant to be or something, you know?"

"Lemme see." I'm such a pervert, but I'm pretty sure she's wearing something that's gonna make me wish that my shirt was long and untucked.

She turns coy with me, head tilted to the side, playful smile decorating her face. "Unh uh, you're just gonna have to wait 'til you get here. Soon, I hope?" Her fingers cross and there's such a eager tone to her voice. She's such a natural at stroking my ego; I never have to wonder how she feels about me, because her face and her words are always straightforward, telling me the story.

I motion to her to hold on and turn away from my phone to speak to the driver. I'm suddenly more impatient that I was before. "Isn't there some side street or something we could take?"

Fifteen minutes before the event begins I arrive at the swanky hotel, and rush in. It's been a hot and windy day, and I really should take a minute to find a bathroom to make sure my in-need-of-a-haircut curls are still in the place where I left them, but I can't be bothered with any more delays. I scan the room and my eyes land right on Gwen; she's talking to some random person and all I can see is her back. Literally, her entire back is out. Sonofabitch. I wonder what the front of her dress looks like. I stand there for a minute, wondering if I should cut into her conversation or just wait it out. There's not much chance for me to make a decision though, because she hugs the woman she's been talking to, and turns around, looking dead at me. Her face totally lights up then, and she starts twisting a piece of her blonde hair.

I'm at her side, standing by a crowded side exit, in no time and she reaches up to give me a hug. My hands touch the smooth skin of her back and I breath her sweetness in. I'm having a great time at this shindig already.

"You finally made it; I've been waiting for you!" Her voice makes me smile; I love how it rises and falls as she speaks, how really excited she sounds to see me. 

We pull away from the hug faster than we normally would, aware of the crowd milling about. My eyes take her in, from the black heels and sexy fishnet stockings, to the striped dress that's cut right down the middle, damn near exposing her belly button. She looks so hot, I think I need a drool cup or a bib or something.

Her smile widens as she notices me noticing her, and she spins around to give me a full view. "You like my dress? It's freaking purple! I can't even believe it. I have never worn purple in my life." She cracks me up, so obviously excited about her purple dress, when the color of it is the _last_ thing on my mind.

"Oh. Is that purple? I wasn't really paying too much attention to what color it was, to tell you the truth." My eyes devour her. That space left exposed by the dress is driving me crazy. I want my tongue to taste her there. I want to sprinkle kisses there. She wants to talk about purple.

"I even bought purple underwear to match this." She's leaned in closer, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. Eyes widening with excitement she adds, "I'm becoming such a wild woman!" 

"Yup, purple's a good color. One of my favorites, actually." Purple underwear? Yes, please.

My deadpan humor tickles her before she calms down enough to notice my outfit. "Oh my god! You're not wearing jeans! That's like a miracle." She pulls on the lapels of my blazer as she talks. "And you really look cute, oh god, you're so handsome, Blake."

"Thank you." She's so energetic tonight, that she's almost vibrating. "Have you been drinking already?"

"No," she playfully pushes against my chest. "I'm just like, so excited to be here. Isn't there like, such an awesome feeling in this place?"

"I'm excited to be here, too." Perhaps for a different reason, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Gwen stops bouncing around for a minute and she looks a mixture of annoyed and disbelieving. "Oh! And I got my first question..." She's playing with her hair again and I'm slowly beginning to have success cataloging all her gestures and ticks: this one means she's suddenly shy, or nervous.

"First question about...?"

"They wanted me to set the record straight about me and you and the rumors. I just played it off like, 'Oh wow! Is Blake even coming tonight?'. And she was like, 'yeah, the rumors are gonna be flying if you two even take a picture together'. So, I was just like, 'Bring it on, bitches!'" She laughs again, recovered now from her brief dip in energy. Overall, I'm loving this mood she's in. I can barely remember how grumpy I was before I got here because she puts a constant smile on my face.

"So you don't seem too irritated about it; that's good." That's excellent, actually. I get worried when she freaks out about tabloids and paparazzi shit.

"No, I think I've decided to just avoid answering the question directly and just have fun with it, y'know? I'm enjoying life too much right now to be upset about that. I just think it's so hysterical that anyone even cares who I'm dating." Downplaying who she is has become almost an art form with her. "I mean, it really blows my mind."

"By the way, just out of curiosity, who _are_ you dating?"

"Well," her hands fly again to her hair, but her gaze never wavers from mine. "I don't know if you've met him yet, but he's super tall and super funny and super handsome and like, really sexy, and he's like, this country guy, you know? Two sexy dimples in his cheeks, curly hair that makes me just want to run my fingers through it, and he always puts this huge cheesy smile on my face because he's so amazing and so sweet. Do you know that guy?" She gives me the mock-skeptical look and it cracks me the hell up.

"Nope. That guy sounds like a sucker, if you ask me." I can acknowledge the fact that it makes me feel kinda good to hear her describe me like that, though.

"Hmm, I'd say more like a unicorn. I'm pretty sure he's the only one of his kind." She takes my hand in hers and smiles that shy smile up at me. 

Yeah, I'm pretty much mush when it comes to her.

 

"On the one hand, it sucks because the kids aren't with me all the time anymore and we lead like, these semi-separate lives now. I hate that, so much. They're my kids you know? But then again," she leans with her back against me as we sit on the huge balcony that hangs over the front of my house, "I get guilt-free nights like this, where I know they're with their dad, and I'm off mom duty and I get to answer to my first name, know what I mean?" She pulls on my arm, already draping over her, snuggling up under it even more.

"No, probably not." I laugh having no idea the guilt and loss of freedom associated with being a dad. "Selfishly, I'm just glad that it works out for you to be with me this weekend."

This feels like déjà vu all over again, having Gwen here, but this time at my house in L.A. We left the Visionary Ball together, right after it ended, in a hurry to be out of the crowds and alone with each other. And dammit, I couldn't get her out of there fast enough. A steady stream of guys kept coming to our table all night, asking to dance with her, wanting pictures with her or just plain hogging up my time with her by wanting to hold long-ass conversations. I'm not the jealous type, but I admit, it was getting a little old. Even the one picture she and I took together had some other dude in it. But I shouldn't've been too worried, she was quick to pull out her iPhone for some selfies of us after we left the hotel together. And more importantly, she left with me.

"Speaking of which, what costume did you decide on?" We are headed to a few Halloween parties this weekend and I'm dying to know what she's come up with.

"It's a surprise, so you'll just have to wait and see tomorrow, I guess." Her nails comb the hair on my arms. Surprisingly, it's quite soothing.

I hate surprises; I don't like being left out. I think it has something to do with me being the baby of the family. "No hints?" 

"Well, you can say it was inspired by a fairly recent turn of events, and I'll leave it right there." She sounds so satisfied with herself that I know begging won't do me any favors. Oh well.

The nighttime Santa Ana winds blow strands of her hair across my face and I tighten my hold on her. She's taken off those heels and sexy-as-fuck fishnets, and although she was a little tipsy when we left the event, she's as right as rain again. This is probably the best night of my year so far; sitting outside on this beautiful night, drinking an ice cold beer, arms wrapped around this amazing woman who I'm steadily losing my heart to.

"Baby, I've been thinking..." Serious tone of voice signaling a serious subject. Uh-oh.

"Hmm?" I swallow my beer, content to just lie here on this lounger and stay mellow.

"Like how open are we going to be with this? With us?" She faces me now, her mouth turned downward in a slight pout. "Like, I mean the ball tonight, the parties tomorrow...before you know it the show will be back on live and we'll like, be out more in public."

I sigh, knowing that the response to this means more to her than it does to me. "I don't have an exact answer for that, sweetness, and here's why. I couldn't give a shit who knows about you and me. I don't have anything I wanna hide. Fuck anyone else's opinion." And all that is true. I can't let my life be dictated by what someone else thinks about it. Fuck that shit. "However, I know you've got other things to contend with."

"Yeah, like a divorce that's not yet final, and three kids who I've got to protect. I don't have anything to hide and I'm not interested in anyone else's opinion either, but I've got more to think about than just me." Worry darkens her face, and I hate that. I don't want her upset or worried about anything, especially as it relates to us.

"And that's why I can't answer your question. All _I_ have to think about is me, and I know you don't have the same luxury." This topic has crossed my mind many times before, and each time I come to the same conclusion.

"No, I don't."

"So, I guess I have to defer to you then. However much or little you want to reveal is fine. If you want to keep us under wraps for now, I'll roll with you on that." It's definitely not my preference, but if that's what the fuck she needs to be okay, then I'm okay with it.

"But I don't want you to think that I'm like, hiding our relationship or anything. It won't have anything to do with that." Soft-hearted and sensitive, she's appears even more worried than before. She's considering my feelings and it makes me feel good to know that she's taking into account my point of view.

"I know that. And when the time is right, we won't have to be as cautious. Look, the important thing to me isn't how we look in a couple of paparazzi pictures; fuck them and their pictures." I've dealt with the paps and tabloids more in the past four years than she's probably dealt with all her life. They're annoying, but eventually they move on to their next victim. "I just want you to feel comfortable with all this." 

"I feel bad though. Like I have all these issues or whatever that's slowing us down. You're so affectionate with me and I love that; I don't want that to stop. But at the same time, I don't want to be worried about who's gonna see us or what some magazine is going to print." Hands fly up to smooth down her hair, tossed by the wind. I wait until she's finished her task before placing her hands in my own.

"Then don't be. I mean I know it's easier said than done, but you've got to live your life regardless of who sees you doing it."

She leans against me then, her side to my chest and her legs hanging over my thigh. I realize it's been too long since I've seen her smile. "You make complete sense, of course, but I don't like feeling so...in the spotlight, so exposed. It's one thing for me to be on stage with everyone looking at me; that's my job, that's what I'm there for, right? This shit though? It's totally foreign to me and so unnatural."

I take a swig of beer to lubricate the way for my next words. "Can I tell you something honestly?"

Her head nods against my chest. "Of course you can."

"I've seen how react when Adam talks about the paparazzi and all. You get anxious or nervous or concerned or whatever. I guess I get concerned too, because...I don't want you to back away from us. I just wonder, if you're under too much pressure or...or you feel like you're too exposed and you can't lead a normal life anymore with your kids, would you want to go back to just being by yourself? There I said it. It makes me nervous as shit to think about it."

Fingers stroke my beard in a comforting motion as Gwen sits up slightly. Her mood is as somber as mine, and her voice comes through quiet but convincing. "So you do realize that I spent 20 years basically begging for love and affection and attention from the guy I was married to, right? And now that I finally have that, you think I'm gonna let some guys with cameras make me give that all up?" She scoffs in disbelief. "Cowboy, the way you make me feel, I'm never gonna give you up. You know I wasn't looking for any type of relationship, but it's happened now, and I don't want to just go back to being by myself. Nobody makes me feel the way you do, so we'll just have to fight our way through, because I can't imagine you not being in my life like this." 

I look down at her and see stars shining in her eyes. Those were the exact words I needed to hear, but I still feel like a pussy. "Man, this being vulnerable shit is bullcrap!" 

"But baby, did you hear what I said?" She gets up on her knees between my spread out legs, meeting my eyes, not letting me use humor to deflect. "God, what would I have done all this time without you? You literally make every day such a good one. Don't think like that anymore. Please?" 

It's like a burden is removed from my chest and I can breathe a little easier now. "I promise, if you promise to relax a little and enjoy the ride."

"Hmm, 'the ride'. Like a 'Giddy up, ride 'em cowboy' kind of ride?" She chuckles at herself, and moves closer to me. Her legs are finally within my reach and my hands automatically seek them out, moving up her bare thighs under the short skirt of her purple striped dress to cup her ass cheeks.

"Can't think of a better kind."

Her mouth is directly level to mine and the kiss she offers is pure fire. My fingertips press into the curve of her ass, and I suddenly look forward to spending more time exploring it. Legs, lips and now ass; I'm always finding a new part of her to love.

Picking her up by the waist, I gently lay her back on the cushions of this oversized chaise lounge and lean over her. My mouth has been watering for just this strip of skin down the middle of her body since I first saw her, and now's my chance.

But first, "You knew this dress would drive me crazy, didn't you?"

She has a low sexy laugh. I think she's learning how much power she has over me, and she's enjoying it. "Well, I had _hoped_ so, but...you've managed to keep your hands off of me so far."

"That all ends right now." 

I don't know who I'm teasing more, her or me, as one finger starts at her neck and light as a feather, trails it's way down to the belt holding her dress together. Her eyelids flutter at the sensation and I can't wait anymore to taste her. I reverse directions and my tongue and teeth move to mark her flesh low on her belly. I pull down the fabric restricting my access and get to work. I know it's a teenage backseat make out thing to do, but I'm in a certain kind of mood and I want her to have a daily reminder that my mouth was here. Her breathless gasps as I continue to work her skin will replay in my mind as well. I pull away, kissing the area around the mark as it blooms on her skin. All I can think of is that I want her to be mine, her body and her heart given to me freely. I've worked on her heart daily, now it's time to put in a little time on her gorgeous body. 

I spread the thick straps of material covering her breasts. Her erect nipples await my touch and I quickly oblige. I suck first one, then the other into my mouth, giving each a tiny nip before soothing with my lips and tongue. Her hands burrow into my hair, long nails scratching out her pleasure like Morse code on my scalp. Every time she arches her back at the pull of my lips, she lets out another tiny moan that seems destined to drive me slowly insane with need.

"Your nipples are so plump, I love the feel of them rolling around in my mouth." As if to demonstrate, one hand works on twisting the delicate nub between my fingers. "Look at that, babygirl." Her eyes flutter open and dart to mine before looking down at the motion of my hand on her. She watches intently, and follows my fingers as they move to my tongue, grabbing some moisture, before returning to spread it across the same nipple. 

A sound escapes her throat almost like a cry, and my mouth returns to hers, trying to tell her, without words how sexy she is out here under the stars.

I grab the bottom of the dress, pulling it up over her hips and chest, over her head and off. She moves to cover her chest, but I'm having none of that. My hands uncover her, and I place her arms above her head. My body moves over hers again and I find these sensitive spots on the inside of her arms, elbow and wrist to tease with my tongue before my eyes sweep over her body, nearly naked on my custom-sized outdoor furniture. How did I ever get this lucky.

"So those are the purple panties you were telling me about." Tiny, lacy and purple. And so sexy as they sit right beneath her hip bones. Delicate, just like her. I have the caveman urge to rip those fuckers right off her body, but I don't. "Purple is an excellent color on you, sweetheart." 

My hand raises one of her knees up, and my mouth meanders from one point to the other. Her breathing races out of control as I move in closer to her thighs and then upward. My face nears the treasure clothed in purple, and I inhale her there, excited beyond anything I can control. I remember her taste and her feel from the days spent back at my ranch in Tish, but can't wait for another chance to torture myself when she writhes beneath me as she comes.

"You know what I wanna do right now? I wanna taste you so bad, baby." Fingers walk up from her thigh across the lace, illustrating my words. "And not off of my fingers this time either; I want my tongue inside of you. Will you let me do that?"

My index finger slowly glides up the moist crotch of her panties. Gwen shudders in a loud breath as she opens her thighs for me. "Yeah, spread your legs for me a little more darlin', let me make sure you're ready." I damn near die when she does just that, pulling the side of her thong up and over, so my finger slides right on through to the fragrant sticky wetness that she's revealed.

I follow her lead and begin to kiss my way down to that beautiful pussy of hers, eager to hear her make those sexy noises and feel her moving against my mouth. My lips run along the inside of her thigh and my facial hair must tickle her because her moan is littered with a sexy giggle. I can smell her getting wetter and my mouth actually begins to water. 

Both thumbs hook into her waistband and as I begin to pull them down she whispers, "Blake...wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting every other day is tough, guys! I may have to make it every third day (ex. Monday, Thursday, Sunday) but I haven't decided on that yet. Keep reading and commenting. I cherish all of your feedback : )
> 
> HotlineBling, you're invaluable. Thanks for being you!


	14. On the Way Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen can't seem to leave the tender moment alone. Once Blake finds out why, how will he lovingly tackle the issue and move them forward?

God, I'm such an idiot. What am I saying? "Hold on." 

Blake looks up at me, his eyes illuminated by more than just the perfectly placed sconces on the exterior of his house. His pupils are dilated, making his blue eyes appear dark and sexy and stormy. Right now, I'm just as aroused as he looks, but I had to stop him.

"What's wrong, honey?" He seems so concerned about me, his fingers releasing the lace on my panties to brush my hair back from where it clings to my forehead.

"Umm...are you sure nobody can see us?" That question is almost laughable. I _know_ nobody can see us, not unless they were Spider-Man scaling the walls of the house with special night vision goggles. I'm just stalling.

"Gwen, nobody can see us. The balcony ledge is about four feet high over here, and we're much lower than that on this chair." He pulls me up to a seated position, leaning over to grab his suit coat from where he carelessly tossed it on the floor, and covers me up with it. 

I feel so silly, but I don't know how else to handle this. I'm struggling to find the words that will make sense. I pull the jacket around me, trying to shield my body in this warm night air and turn to gaze at the view around us.

Blake scooches closer to me, inhaling a deep breath that he releases as he runs both hands through his greyish-brown hair. "Look at me, honey."

Reluctantly, I meet his eyes. To my relief, I don't see any anger in them - just confusion and frustration.

Like I told him before, it seems like I'm the only one with all the issues. I'm lucky that he's only been patient and loving with me, regardless. Sometimes, I can't figure out why he even bothers when it comes to me. "Talk to me. What's going on with you right now?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that I've never done anything like this before." My insides do somersaults: a combination of the excitement of what we were doing, along with the dread of what I'm having to say now.

"Like what before?" He tilts my face so my eyes meet his again.

"Like _this_." My hands gesture to my dress and stockings, strewn on the floor, and his shirt, partially unbuttoned. "All this adventurous stuff. I'm not saying I don't want to, because I totally do, but it's just like, new for me. You'd think that after like, 20 years with the same guy, that I'd be like, more comfortable, more experienced, but I'm not."

"I'm really trynna understand, but I'm not gettin' it. You're saying that you wanna take this inside? We can do that." I think he must still be in some testosterone-driven sex daze because he's struggling to keep up.

"But that's not what I mean." I grab his hand in an effort to help him focus on what I'm saying. "Look, I've never felt comfortable with the sexual side of myself, okay? I mean, I grew up Catholic but performed in a band with all guys, literally all over the world and saw lots of stuff."

"Okay, so you've had some conflicting experiences, then." He nods his head as if things are beginning to sink in.

"Right, and then like, I've always loved making out and stuff, and yeah, sex was nice but, it was always more about pleasing him than it was for me. Like, it felt good being so close and giving my body in that way, you know what I mean? But it's never been as big of a deal for me." And actually, that's been just fine by me. 

"So what are you saying here? You don't have orgasms or something?" Maybe it's the beer that's making him so slow tonight.

"No, I mean like, yeah, I've had them before but not, like, a lot. That's why I was so like 'wow!' both times with you. Like that's not how I am. I don't just get up on my boyfriend and just, like, grind one out. I'm so much more passive than that." I still don't know how that even happened. I shocked myself with that one.

"So is that what you want then? You wanna just stay passive?" His eyes challenge me, pinning me to a figurative wall, awaiting my final answer. 

I maintain eye contact and shake my head repeatedly, not wanting him to misunderstand. "No. I don't know how to explain it but, I think I've spent the last 20 years feeling guilty or weird or something about sex. Like, I'm such a tomboy when I perform and I feel comfortable with that. And yeah, I can get hair and makeup done, and put on some sexy outfit and be that person for a moment, but I've never internalized it. I never learned to enjoy it and explore it. I just did what was expected of me, I guess."

"'Expected' of you, huh? What's been 'expected' of you?" I can hear irritation floating around in his country drawl, but I know that it's not directed at me, so I take my time in answering.

"Um... my ex would always want me to do things I wasn't comfortable with. And I'd go along with it because I felt it was like, my wifely duty, or whatever. 'What you won't do for your man, some other woman will' is what I've always heard, and I didn't want that to happen. Looks like it didn't make much difference anyway, right?" My laugh sounds bitter to my own ears. I used to blame myself for his behavior because of that dumb saying, right there, thinking it was my fault that he was always looking elsewhere. 

"Sweetheart, he was a cheating asshole. That has no reflection on you." Blake's leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, sincerity streaming from his eyes.

"You're right. I've come to realize that now. But he used to always say stuff that like, made me cringe: things that turned him on." I continue, hesitantly, not really wanting to relive those moments.

"Like?" He sits up straight now, looking like he's totally irritated.

"Calling me names, 'slut' and 'whore'. I mean I get it, some people get off on that, and I'm not judging them, but for _me_ I'm so like, sensitive and emotional, y'know? I'm so into romance and sweetness, so I hated when he said harsh shit like that. It made me feel cheap and worthless. Once, I told him how I felt about it, and he said none of his other women had ever complained."

He curses under his breath, eyes on fire with more than just irritation now, "I'm sure that made you feel _real_ good, real secure."

"Right? I just dealt with it, though. Don't get me wrong, I mean he could be loving sometimes. It wasn't all bad. He wasn't always a total jerk and I wasn't some, like victim or something. It's not like I hate sex or don't like being touched that way, because I do. But I just figured that I was blessed in other ways and that I could put up with his wishes once or twice a month."

Blake's eyebrows fly into his hairline as he asks in disbelief, "Once or twice a _month_? Thats it? For your whole marriage?" 

"Like that, yeah. I mean obviously he had his hands in other cookie jars too, so..." Honestly, it was more than enough for me anyway. "But I don't want to talk about him anymore." Because I want to talk about us: me and Blake.

He averts his eyes and thinks for a minute. "Have I done anything that makes you feel uncomfortable? Please don't be afraid of being honest." That he would even think to ask me that touches me beyond description.

Automatically, I reach for my hair and start messing with it. "No. To be _real_ honest with you, I've never felt so...wanted before, so romanced. I even love it when you talk...like that to me. But you gotta understand, this is all new to me; I still feel so shy and awkward, sometimes, like a freaking teenager. Just thinking about you or being near you makes me so aware of my body like, reacting. Then there's all the noises I make. God, it's embarrassing." I laugh at myself, convinced that I've probably been too honest with my answer. But I can't help it; being with him is like living life with a permanent fever, and my thinking processes are starting to get a little cloudy from being so aroused.

"Nope, it's actually quite a turn-on. Not only does it let me know if you're enjoying what we're doing, but it sounds sexy as fuck." His voice is doing things to me, making my stomach flop around and my nipples tighten. I'd completely forgotten that I'm practically naked under this blazer.

"It's crazy that this is unchartered territory still, at this stage of my life. It's _exciting_ territory though, and I've surprised myself with how bold I've been with you. I just want to take my time with it and like, actually enjoy it, y'know?" And god knows I've been enjoying his hands on me. I remember how turned on I was a few minutes ago - how turned on I still am - and I desperately want to kill this conversation, and get back to that one.

"Sweetheart, I'm pickin' up what you're putting down; I hear you loud and clear." He pulls me close, hand on my chin, kiss on my forehead. "You ready to go on inside?"

"Inside?" I pull on his hand as he gets ready to stand up. He sits down again, and I start playing with his fingers. Those long fingers that have worked a miracle on my body more than once. "No, I'm here now, with you, and I wore that fucking purple dress and I've got on purple thongs." My tongue wets my lips in preparation. 

I can't wait any longer. "Let's do this, cowboy." With that, I grab his arm, pullling him on top of me as I fall backwards. I let my legs fall open and his coat fall off as I kiss him. It's time for old things to fall away. 

It's time for something new.

 

"So if I heard you right," a warm wet kiss lands on my left nipple, "you wanna take this nice..." another one, now on the crease between my inner thigh and my panties,"...and slow." 

Blake's randomly placed kisses heat my body back up to sizzling in no time. "Am I right, Gwen?" One more, now on the inside of my wrist. My eyes close against the pure seduction of it all.

My mouth goes dry. I think all the moisture in my body has rushed down between my legs, pooling there, and I can't speak. I nod instead.

He rises above me now. I can feel his body occupying the space above me, his breath blowing warm against my cheek as he leans over, whispering, "I can't hear you."

"Yes," somehow makes its way out through my tight throat. My senses are so deliciously overwhelmed right now. His scent mixed with that of my own arousal hangs in the air. The light tip-tap of his fingertips as they dance up my hips to my waist then my ribs, is just shy of ticklish, but leave goosebumps in their wake. My breath sounds so shallow and so rushed, almost like the background music to his sexy low-pitched drawl. The total darkness behind my closed eyes only intensifies these feelings. Now, all I need is to taste him.

He must be a mind-reader, because his lips close over mine in the next instant. He kisses like he sings: smoothly, richly, convincingly. His tongue is perfection, teasing mine, dancing lightly in my mouth, exploring sensitive patches of skin right inside my lips and on the underside of my tongue. His teeth lightly tug on my bottom lip as his hands slide under my head, cradling it closer to his own. Deeper the strokes of his tongue go, and my body tingles all over.

Hands cup my breasts, and his palms skate over my hardened nipples. I pull away to gasp at the contrast in sensations; rough hands, smooth tongue. Wandering over to my neck, his mouth tastes me. The tip of his tongue meanders up from my collarbone to behind my ear, and despite the warmth of the evening, I shiver. 

"Your skin leaves such a sweet taste in my mouth." His voice is in my ear and my hand rises to hold his head and keep him there. I've only ever had voices colored by British accents speaking in my ear, and I yield to the slow thick honey of Blake's tone as a welcomed departure from my usual.

Slowly, he moves down my body, the cotton of his shirt like static electricity as it glides across my skin, so sensitive. He murmurs words that I can hear, but don't understand along the way. My hands stay in place, on the back of his head until he grasps one, placing a kiss in the palm. His descent stops on my upper thigh, his face turned towards my body, and my heart kicks up a newer, faster rhythm in response.

"Let's go back to basics, babygirl." Sweet kisses freckle my thighs, and not needing my permission, my legs widen further, wanting more. "First, we're gonna take these off; I wanna see you."

Hands, hot and steady pull on my panties, as I watch. I close my thighs together, arching my body up to help with the process. This will be the first time he's seen me without any clothes on, and I'm nowhere near as nervous as I thought I'd be. His eyes are drinking me in like I'm his favorite beer, and it makes me feel so confident, so open and willing.

Finding my hand, he kisses each fingertip before pulling my hand down below. "Show me what you like. I wanna watch you make yourself come."

Somewhere way, way in the back of my mind, in a tiny corner of conscious thought, I'm freaking out. In the erotic tension that I'm currently bathing in, however, I'm weak to do anything other than move my hand to my center. How is it possible to get so wet? 

My fingernail skims across my flesh, and I'm thankful for my most recent wax appointment. The sensation of my moist lips parting is unexpected and I bite back a moan. With my middle finger, I dip inside, pushing as far up as I can go before withdrawing. I know Blake's face is between my legs watching, but my eyes are closed, and I can't will them to open to see his expression. The same finger begins to explore, teasing the sensitized flesh it encounters along the way. I move it up, up, up, letting out a loud moan when it bumps into the swollen nub at the top.

"Fuck..." Blake's voice, thickened by arousal, hisses from somewhere down below. Just knowing that he's enjoying what I'm doing makes me even wetter. I can't remember ever feeling like this: sexy and bold. I chance a look, and he is literally on his knees, his hands stroking my legs and thighs, his curious eyes roaming from my face to my hands and back again, taking everything in. There goes another rush of moisture between my legs and I shudder.

My idle hand rises to tweak a nipple, twisting and pulling on it firmly, but not painfully. I can feel the beginnings of my orgasm, as my finger dips inside once more before playing with my clit.

I can't believe the breathy moaning sounds coming out of my mouth or the tight gyration of my hips or the wet sucking noises that my fingers make inside of me. I can't even believe doing this has turned me on so fucking much. God, being with this man makes me so free. 

But right now, I need his kiss. Badly. Then, I can explode.

My hand leaves my nipple, blindly grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him up towards me. He somehow knows exactly what I need and his mouth crashes into mine, our tongues frantic for one another. He holds onto me as I begin to fall apart. Moans escape from my mouth into his as I come, and his name is the only word that my lips can pronounce. He strokes my arms and legs as I return to Earth from flight, alternately kissing me and telling me that I'm beautiful, and I actually feel that way. 

Yeah, I feel like a new woman, already.

 

By the time we crawl into Blake's California king bed, it's past 4am. We've spent so much time talking and laughing and making out, that I am deliriously tired by the time he grabs me from behind, wraps his arms around my waist, and shuffles me step by step towards his room.

As I snuggle up to him, my body practically lying atop his, the last thing I hear him say is, "Sleep as long as you want to, princess." 

 

The sun beats in through Blake's southeastern facing window some hours later, waking me up. I was having an amazing dream, too: introducing Blake to Love, Angel, Music and Baby, and laughing at him trying to pronounce the word 'Harajuku'. The strong rays hit my face directly as I'm still positioned on Blake's bare chest, and I'm annoyed. For whatever reason, his black-out curtains are pulled back to the sides of the window, allowing a steady stream of light to come right through. As much as I want to go back to sleep, I can't drum up enough energy to get up and unfasten the drawn curtains, so that I can return to blessed darkness and my sweet dreams. I re-open one eye and do a quick room search; maybe there's a remote somewhere?

Blake stirs beneath me. "Blake, wake up." I feel bad doing this to him, but then again, not really.

"Hmm?" His eyes flutter open, then close again.

"Blake," I know I sound whiny but that's okay; 'whiny' is exactly how I feel right now, "the sun is in my face. Can you please?" At least that's what I intend my words to say; I'm not sure how coherent I sound just yet.

"Hmm?" His arms wrap around me tighter and he yawns.

"Blake, the sun." I turn my head away from the large window to the opposite wall, where the light isn't as intense.

"Hmm." He rolls out from underneath me, walking over to the offending window. Loosening the knot on the curtains, he opens his hand and drops the ties directly on the floor before crawling back to bed.

Much better. "Thank you, Blake."

"Hmm." His eyes are closed, curly hair smashed into the blue pillowcase beneath his head. He rolls us over to a spooning position and grumbles. "Go back to sleep."

No problem; I'm halfway there.

 

I sleep until almost 2 in the afternoon. I don't remember putting on one of Blake's button-down shirts before we got in the bed, but here I am, dressed in a shirt that four of me could easily fit in. I sit up and look around, wondering where Blake is, until the smell of something delicious cooking seeps into my consciousness. That must be what woke me up, because I could seriously lay back down and fall back asleep again, right now. Stepping into the master suite bathroom, I brush my teeth, finger comb my hair and looking in the mirror, instantly regrettingnot washing my face before I went to sleep. I remove most of the smeared eyeliner and mascara with those makeup remover towels, before heading to the kitchen.

He's already showered and dressed, his hair still a little damp, and I feel a bit shy being so tousled when he appears so put together. I push up the super long sleeves of his navy shirt so that I can have hands again, and walk over to inspect what's cooking.

"Smells good cowboy, what you making me?" I timidly meet his eyes before leaning over to see what he's been up to. Chopped veggies, a carton of eggs, salt and pepper and a bag of bagels: he's been making me breakfast.

"Look who rose from the dead! Good afternoon, sweetie." He takes in my sleep-soft appearance and smiles at me, dimples punctuating his cheeks, and I go all girly, batting my eyelashes and stretching out my clasped hands in front of me. I'm such a dork, but around him I can't help it. His hands go to my hips and he pulls me in for a kiss. It's meant to be short and sweet, but turns into something altogether different by the time we're done. And he tastes so good, every single time.

"It's a very good afternoon. I love sleeping, it's literally one of my favorite things to do. I could like, wake up and go back to sleep and wake up and go back to sleep all day if you let me. Have you been up long? And I love the fact that you're making me this breakfast! That's like, so awesome." I stand up on my toes to deposit a grateful peck on his cheek.

"I was just gonna come in and kiss you awake. I've only been up for about an hour, though." He plates the food, a huge portion for himself and about a third of that for me. "Yeah, breakfast is like the only thing I can really make. I mean, how hard are eggs and bacon? Well, I skipped the bacon today on account of you, but..." 

"Oh Blake, you didn't have to do that. I'm the only one in my family that's a vegetarian, so I'm used to the smell of meat. It doesn't even bother me anymore." Kiss me awake? Shit, I'm sorry I missed out on that.

"Good to know. I'm gonna fry up the whole pig next time, then." Pulling out my chair at the table, he waits until I sit before heading to the fridge to get some containers of juice. "Cream cheese for your bagel?" 

"Yes, please." It would be so easy for me to get used to this.

 

 

Inside George Clooney's Halloween party on Friday night, we try to circulate - my decision - since there's a shitload of paparazzi here. The yearly event is sponsored by George and Cindy Crawford's husband for their tequila brand, so there are reporters and photographers and yes, paparazzi filling the already crowded room full of A-listers here in Beverly Hills. Blake is over in some corner talking to someone I don't recognize in a police officer's costume, and I'm chatting it up with Fergie Ferg before Lenny Kravitz leans over to give me a hug. Every now and then, I can feel the cowboy's eyes on me, and I turn to see him checking me out. I figured he'd love my cowgirl get-up, and as soon as I stepped out of his bathroom earlier tonight in it, he threw back his head laughing. "'I wanna be your cowboy, and you can be my cowgirl', is that it?" Yes, country guy, that's exactly it.

I'm loving my shot at being a carefree party girl, and the music and drinks here are great, but I'm kind of paranoid, feeling like I have to watch everything I do. With so many industry people around, the publicity is in full force, and although I don't want to mix and mingle while avoiding Blake, I also don't want our pictures to be all over the internet tomorrow, either. A couple of hours in, and I'm more than ready to go. Stealing looks at each other every few minutes is getting old and I want to be close to him; that's the whole reason why he came, to hang out with me, not to shoot each other longing glances across crowded rooms. Fortunately, we've got Jared Leto's house party to go to. That one will be smaller, with fewer people and hopefully. less publicity. 

I look up from my conversation in search of him and we lock eyes. He raises his eyebrows in question and I motion to the exit with my head. Lifting the cup he's got some kind of alcohol in, he acknowledges my signal and we turn to leave.

Separate cars take us to the Hollywood Hills - again, my planning ahead - and I walk in to find Blake waiting for me by the interior door. I haven't seen any paparazzi and although it's such a relief, I'm too smart to let my guard down.

"Finally! I've been wantin' to hang out with you all night." I know that Blake couldn't care less about these parties. Normally, he'd be enjoying his weekend back in Oklahoma, hooking something on a line or setting a trap for something else. Knowing how much he's giving up just so he can spend time with me makes me feel special, beyond anything I've ever known. He's put in such an effort to be with me, and is pretty much completely out of his comfort zone with these "Hollywood folks", as he calls them. I mean sure, he's charming and handsome and hilarious, so people gravitate towards him based off of that. He's practically had people swarming him tonight, and I don't have to babysit him or anything, but I know that he would've never wanted to step foot into any of these places if it weren't for me. That fact is not lost on me and I appreciate him all the more for it.

"Did you miss me?" I can't help myself from smiling when I look at him. It isn't just his half-assed ridiculous costume that he threw together; it's everything about him that's making it feel so good to be me.

"Yeah, I been missing you." He starts to bend down to kiss me, but then catches himself, raising his head and clearing his throat. His face doesn't show any expression, but I still don't like how that whole scenario that just played out makes me feel.

"Let's just stay for a little bit, okay?" Grabbing his hand, I look up at him with what I hope is pure adoration in my eyes. I owe it to myself to have fun tonight, and just as importantly, I owe him big time for being so patient and understanding with me. 

Payback starts tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to my right-hand woman, and Shefani sister, HotlineBling.
> 
> Thanks to everyone reading and writing. Your feedback spurs me on.


	15. Show Me Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, things don't go as Gwen and Blake plan, but what realizations will this derailment bring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me reiterate for everyone reading; this is a work of fiction, supported by actual events. I am in no way connected to anyone in this story, and if I am being used as a source for a "news" or "entertainment" article, then you are barking up the wrong tree. This is strictly a work of my overactive imagination. In other words, do your own research from a PRIMARY source, not from my fanFICTION. Ahem.
> 
> In other news...thanks to my pinch hitter feedback reader, Mads, for stepping in, while my BSF (Best Shefani Friend) is away. You have always been awesome to me and I appreciate you.

I'm madder than a tomcat that has two dicks and no pussy.

We eventually make it back to my place after the two Halloween parties tonight, and I'm looking forward to some one-on-one time with Gwen. Last night was fuckin' hot; I've never seen a girl play with herself like that, up close, and I was scared Gwen was gonna tell me to go fuck myself when I asked her to do it, but I guess she was right; she's ready to finally _enjoy_ the physical side of a relationship. I hold the door open for her and get it locked right before my horny hopes get smashed to the floor. Swear to God, no sooner do my cowboy boots hit the travertine of my hallway entrance, than her phone starts blowing up with text messages, one after the other. I know something is wrong when she looks at her screen, and walks away from me, into my bedroom.

I don't know exactly what to do, so I give her a few minutes alone to handle whatever. After standing by for a bit, I head inside the room, hoping I'm not invading her privacy. Stress is written all across her features, as she sits at the foot of my bed. 

"Fine, put him on the phone, then." Her voice is clipped and curt. Those sunflower cowboy boots she wore tonight are laying flat on the floor, and her hat and pigtails are flopped right beside her on the comforter.

Not knowing if she wants me in here or not, I stand, leaning in the doorway. After a minute, she looks up, first muting the call, then putting her phone on speaker to talk to me.

"I'm hella pissed right now; this is ridiculous." She shakes her head in disbelief and exhales sharply.

"What's going on?" 

It seems that's all I say anymore. From the hotel in New York after "The Tonight Show", to the discussion after the ball, to last night out on the balcony; seems like there's always another fire to put out. Shit.

"The kids' dad texted me saying that Apollo was sick and had a fever, and that he needed me to come and get him. Like, 'come right now'. So I'm like, 'What the fuck? You're his dad. Take his temperature and give him some children's Tylenol and monitor him for any other symptoms', right? I mean, come on, he's got two other kids, he knows how this goes."

I nod my head, semi-familiar with the sick kid routine. Nothing too complicated. "Right, so what's the issue, then?"

"He's like, 'I don't have any medicine here or a thermometer or anything, so you need to come get him. He's crying and whining and none of us can get any sleep.'" She does a great job of mocking his British accent. "Can you believe this bullshit?"

This doesn't have to become a big issue and I can still salvage my night with her. "Look, why don't we just go to the store, grab the stuff he needs and go drop..."

"Hi, Mom." I'm not sure which boy this is, but it's probably Kingston. His voice sounds awful cheery and alert for it to be damn near 3am, though.

She rolls her eyes and tries to suppress the annoyance in her voice. "Kingston, hey sweetie. Are you still up playing or something." 

"Yeah, well...watching TV." He sounds distracted, like he's concentrating real hard on whatever it was on the screen. At damn near 3 in the morning.

Gwen pulls the phone away from her mouth and gives a silent scream, head thrown back, hand fisted. "Your bed time is 10pm on the weekend, son; you know better."

"But dad said..."

"It's okay, I won't worry about that right now. Tell me what's going in with your baby brother." This isn't the first time I've heard her "mom" voice, but it's the first time since we've been together. I'm not ashamed to say, Gwen is a total MILF.

"Uhh...he won't go to sleep. I tried to play with him and make him laugh with the funny noises I make, you know like how I always do, mom?" I hear talking in the background; wonder if it's his dad coaching him on what to say.

"Yes sweetie, I do." 

There's a hesitation on the other end. "But yeah, he won't do it, he won't laugh at me. I guess he must be sick or something."

"Okay son. You need to get in bed now, okay? I love you." As annoyed as I am with this situation, I'm still enjoying seeing her in her role as a mom. There's something really special about it. 

"I love you, too." I try to imagine a kid saying those words to me, and I honestly can't. That realization is depressing, so I push it aside.

"Put your dad back on." There's a weariness in her voice, like she's been there, done that, too many times before. That tone is nothing like the happy, upbeat one I heard in the car tonight, on the way home. 

There's silence until a British accent comes through the speaker. "Gwen look, I'm sorry to interrupt you and your hillbilly boyfriend's fun night out..." I move from my spot, ready to say something to the weasel, before Gwen's hand flies up to stop me, "but I think your son needs you more. You are still his mother, aren't you? Sick kids want their mum."

"What the fuck would you do if I wasn't in town, huh? How would you handle this situation, 'dad'?" As impressed as I am that she hasn't raised her voice yet, I feel ready to raise mine. She has a helluva point; this dude is fucking ridiculous.

"Well, we don't have to even hypothesize about that, now do we, because I know for a fact that you've been quite the party girl this evening, all over L.A." What, does he have spies watching us? If that's the case, I hope they saw us holding hands when we left Leto's party or sneaking kisses while we were inside.

"Oh, so you're keeping tabs on me now? That's cute, but I'm not yours to be concerned with any longer." Somehow, she manages to sound irritated without sounding overly-concerned, but I wonder how she's really feeling about him knowing all of this.

He can't think of a witty comeback so he just asks, "How long until you're here?"

"Give me 40 minutes," and with that she presses the end button and looks up at me.

"So what are you gonna do?" I know what's gonna happen. I'm gonna spend my night all alone, needing her and wanting to shove her ex's tongue down his throat.

"I'm going to go over there and pick him up. I mean, what are my options? My son is sick." Slowly, she gathers her things as she speaks, walking to the bathroom to reclaim what's hers.

"Why, don't you just take some stuff over there and..." Brilliant idea, no?

"No, because he's gonna send one of the kids to open the door, and then it's gonna be a huge deal because Apollo is going to see me and want to come with me, and...no, I'm just gonna go pick him up and take him home for the night." She walks back into the bedroom and reaches down for her discarded cowboy boots, before sitting down to put them on.

A big sigh escapes her mouth, full of longing and regret. "This like, totally derailed everything. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, honey." Her ex is a stalking, cheating, lying bastard, that's all. Not her fault.

"But I feel like I do." Throwing her things into her black bag, she looks around one more time to make sure she's got everything. "Do you want to come home with me?I don't know how sick Apollo really is, but I'm sure the medicine will knock him out for the night."

I debate my answer, surprised that she even asked. I could sit here tonight feeling sorry for myself, or...

"Sure, let me grab a change of clothes." I kiss her forehead in gratitude. Being asked makes me feel like I'm really important in her life. What a fuckin' great feeling.

"Okay." She tosses me a teasing smile. "But you might want to put them in a bag this time."

 

She drives, and I ride; we must look funny, both of us still half dressed in our costumes from earlier in the evening. Sure enough, as she pulls up to the her ex's place in Bel-Air, the car's headlights hitting the the house, the door opens and two little heads peek out. She mutters a "be right back", and gets out the car to walk into the liar's den.

The whole time she's in there, I'm watching, looking for any sign that something's off and that I might need to go bustin' in and rescue her. I'm being real dramatic and shit, but I don't like or trust this dude, and not seeing what's going down in there is makin' me itch. Finally, the door opens again and she comes out carrying the baby, his bag, and his stroller. I jump out to meet her, grabbing the items and opening the door so she can put Apollo in his car seat. It's too dark to read her expression, but I'm pretty sure she looks like a storm cloud.

"Thank you for helping." We climb back into the Rover and take the fifteen minute drive to her house. Apollo is asleep, his pacifier in his mouth, and Gwen looks back at him in the rear view mirror as she drives. "He's a bit warm, but at least he's sleeping."

She seems distracted, and a little upset. I wonder what that shithead said to her while she was in there, but I don't wanna ask, if she's not volunteering any information. I just know from our talks about her marriage, that he's an expert at manipulating her emotions. I don't want him to have that power over her anymore, but I don't think that choice is mine to make. And I definitely don't want him upsetting her, but if he does, at least I know I can put a smile back on her face. 

"You alright?" My eyes take her in, wishing I knew what to do to get rid of the stress and frustration that radiate from her. I know she can put out her own fires, but dammit if anyone's gonna be helping her, it's gonna be me. I barely graduated high school, but I've got enough common sense to know that everything can't always be fuckin' roses and rainbows. This is real life. Real shit. I wanna celebrate with her in the good times and be her hero in the bad. I wanna be the guy who she chooses to experience everything with. For the rest of her life. 

She reaches over to hold my hand, shooting me a grateful smile. "Yeah, I will be." Her voice sounds exhausted.

The rest of our night goes like this: baby to bed, adults to bed and sleep. By the time we crash in Gwen's room, we are both too tired to do more than whisper goodnight to each other. I kiss her cheek and she smiles, eyes already closed and half-asleep. My arms go 'round her tiny form cradling her closely, and she places her hands on top.

My body is tired, but my mind keeps racing. Because of the kids, Gwen's life after divorce will always be more complicated than mine. I realize this. While I really don't have to have any dealings with Miranda, Gwen will always have Gavin in her life, to some extent: birthday parties, school events, whatever. If that's something that I can't accept, then I'm in the wrong relationship. But I much prefer the thought of being with her - caring for and supporting her - and dealing with him as a byproduct, than I do the thought of not being in her life like this. In fact, I don't like that thought one bit. I can't imagine going back to the way things used to be between us. Thinking of her smiling that smile up at some other man makes me wanna spit. The only place I wanna go with her is forward. I mean, how do you walk away from the person who's made you happier than you ever remember being in life? How can you forget the best thing that's ever happened to you? How can you walk away from...

Love?

 

"Ooh, turn back to that song...yeah, right there!"

Gwen has taken the boys trick-or-treating this evening, including the recuperated Apollo, and dropped them back off at their dad's just now, for the rest of the weekend. For his sake, I'm glad Gavin didn't give her a hard time, and now she's in the driver's seat, dressed as a recycled ballerina - her words - and in her usual high-energy mood, on our way to Adam's party.

"Yeah, this one. I love this song."

"What d'you know about this song?" It's "Stay a Little Longer", a country song with more than a little rock and soul to it. I'm shocked that she knows any current tunes playing on country radio.

Her eyes edge in my direction and she turns the volume on the radio up a bit. "I might have listened to this station on a few occasions," she admits a little hesitantly.

To say that I'm pleased to hear that would be an understatement. I give her one of my brightest smiles. "Oh I get it. You just wanna hear me singing to you, don't you?"

"Well, like, how weird would it be for me to say: 'I don't listen to country music, but like, my boyfriend is this _huge_ country star.' That doesn't make sense, you know what I mean? So now I listen to this station, sometimes. I really like some of the songs, too. Actually, a lot of them!" 

Her 'boyfriend'. That's the first time I've heard her refer to me as that, and it warms me up on the inside. "Just be real with me, Gwen. You wanna hear me singing to you on the radio. You can't get enough of me in real life, and you tune in, listening for a chance to hear my sweet tenor through your car speakers. My singing voice turns you on, doesn't it?"

She laughs outright then, shaking her head at my exaggerated claims. "Oh my god, you're so funny." 

For whatever reason, call it my fragile male ego, I want to hear her say something, _anything_ about how awesome she thinks I am as a musician and singer. It's important to me that she more than just respects what I do. Respect is a common courtesy given from one artist to another. But beyond that, I really want her to like my music and _like_ what I do with my songs. It's something that's been on my mind for awhile, actually.

"Go 'head and admit it; it's okay. Confession is good for the soul." 

She laughs and blushes and I know I've got her. "I love it when one of your songs comes on, right? By the second word I know whether it's your voice or not, and if it is, I can't help it; I start smiling all cheesy. I love, um...that one about neon lights at the end of the tunnel, the tunnel, the tunnel," she bops her head along as she repeats the words. "And "Sangria"; that's such a fucking sexy song, I swear. Your voice is so perfect. Lately, they've been playing "Gonna" all the time and I'm like, _obsessed_ with it. I love your voice. There. I said it, okay? Are you happy now?" 

Her tone is colored with laughter and I'm trying not to make it so obvious that I've been holding my breath, waiting for some sign that she enjoys what I do, musically. I don't know what I would've done if she didn't. She already knows that I'm a fan of hers, so the fact that she's sitting there gushing about my songs makes me feel so good. It also makes me wish we were at a red light, so I could give her a big kiss.

"I knew it. My singing voice is like your own personal aphrodisiac. Yeah, I get that a lot." So, I play it off like I knew it all the time, and that her admiration of me as an artist was a given. I throw in a wink for extra measure. "I'm sure I'll perform it on "The Voice" at some point."

She shoots me a look and giggles, clearly enticed by that idea. I'm enticed by it too.

We get to the party and it's as packed tight together as two coats of paint. More reason for me to keep her close. There's lots of famous Hollywood folks here - I recognize the bald dude with the crazy deep voice from all those _Fast and Furious_ movies. The one girl from the series is here with him too. Just a couple of photographers out front, but we came in through the back and based off of how Gwen is holding onto me, I think she feels comfortable enough here to let us just be us. That's something that feels real good to me.

"Hey! A Naughty Ballerina and an Asshole!" Adam appears from out of damn near nowhere, and hugs Gwen before jumping on my back.

"Adam, get the fuck off of me dude. I don't need to feel your ball sac on my ass." I swear, he's the annoying little brother that I thought wanted, but now can't give back.

"'Naughty'?" Gwen looks down at her outfit, confused. "What part of this made you think 'naughty'?"

"Um, the red lacy bra that's showing and the big purple hickey on your neck." Adam points to a spot right under her ear.

Her hand flies up and she turns to me, eyes widened with surprise. "Blake!" Her scream is a loud whisper, but the joke's on her.

"Haha, made you look! There's nothing there." He's cracking himself up and Gwen looks relieved. I wouldn't leave a mark somewhere on her that's so visible anyway. I mean, I probably wouldn't. Maybe.

"Don't you got something better to do besides just being a dickhead?"

"No, not at the moment." Turning to Gwen he asks, "Admit it though, that shit was funny." I leave him begging for forgiveness as I go get us some drinks. 

 

This party is the best of the three we've gone to. Gwen hasn't left my side all night. We've talked with all kinds of people and flirted with each other and been an actual couple; I gotta say I'm really having a good time. 

Maroon 5 gets up to begin their set, with Adam jabbering on about something, and Gwen turns around to me. "Baby, even my chest has goosebumps; can I get your jacket?"

Seeing her pretty smile again is what's on my mind right now, and as always, I wanna be the reason why it's there. "Umm, I don't know. It's an essential part of my 80's rock 'n roll band member costume. If I give it to you, that just makes me a loser in a Tina Turner wig." 

Despite the loud music, her laugh reaches my ears. "Please? Pretty please?" I love how she knows to just play along. My ex-wife never had much use for my sense of humor, so I enjoy being able to make the most of it with Gwen. 

"I don't know." I like pressing my luck. "Fair exchange is no robbery. What do I get in return?"

She smiles big and beckons me down with her index finger. Her mouth tastes like honey as she opens it underneath mine. Arms surround my neck, pulling me closer and I grab onto her waist, feeling the frilly, delicate skirt of her tutu under my hands. I could kiss her all day, but she pulls back before I can even finish the thought. Then, she almost kills me dead when does this movement with her tongue, like she's tasting herself.

"Do that again."

"Do what again?"

"That thing where you did your tongue and lips and all." She's wearing this cherry red lipstick, the same color as her bra, and all I've wanted to do all night is kiss it right off of her. And now since she's gone and thrown this distraction in the mix, I'm barely keeping it together. 

"This?" She does it again, her tongue sweeping over her top teeth before appearing between her lips. "That's what you mean?"

Fuck, yeah. That's a hot move right there. "Yeah, that. That was hella sexy."

She does a double-take. "Oh my god, did you just say 'hella'?"

"Sexy. I said it was sexy." Sweet Jesus, did I just say 'hella'?

"Blake Shelton, are you ever going to give me your jacket?"

I take off my blue jean jacket and turning her around, place it on her. She throws a smile over her shoulder and I pull her back into my front. My hands travel from her shoulders down to grip her waist and she relaxes into my grasp with a sigh that I can feel, rather than hear. We're standing at the outskirts of the crowd that's formed surrounding the stage where Adam and the guys are performing, and we are as oblivious to them as they seem to be to us. 

My mind goes back again to the thoughts I had before I fell asleep last night. I think I knew that I was in love with her a while back, but it was too easy to admit it to myself. I mean, sure, it's real convenient to feel lovey-dovey after making out all night or spending some good time alone with her on a date. I don't know, it kind of cheapened what I felt for her to admit it then, so I didn't give in to the feeling. But after the shit that's gone down and all that we've talked through here recently, after getting a clearer vision of what I'm really getting myself into, I finally feel able to at least mentally acknowledge that I love her. How do I know for sure? Because I've never wanted something so much, that I clearly don't deserve. Gwen Stefani is way too fuckin' good for me, but it gives me a chance to rise to the occasion before she ever realizes it.

"This next song is one we've covered before, but I feel like it may have special meaning to someone tonight. It's by the Beatles and it's called, 'If I Fell'."

_If I fell in love with you_  
_Would you promise to be true_  
_And help me understand_  
_Cos I've been in love before_  
_And I found that love was more_  
_Than just holding hands  
_

_If I give my heart to you_  
_I must be sure_  
_From the very start  
_ _That you would love me more than her_

The Beatles aren't really represented in my musical collection, but man, this song? This song is saying everything that I feel right now. That Adam can be such a pain in my ass, but there's a reason why I love him so much, and him singing this song is one of them.  


In the little over a year that I've known her, I've fallen inch by inch for the beautiful woman swaying to the slow music in my arms. I only hope she can love me back, in a way that I haven't ever been loved before.

 

The lights are off, curtains drawn, and the only sound I hear is her. I notice her breathing change as soon as I touch her body; the nearly unnoticeable breaths she was taking now replaced with a quickened pace and harsher inhalations. There is something about being in the bed, under the covers, in the dark, with the person you want more than seeing the next sunrise.

I don't know why she bothers with the pajamas, because all I want is her skin touching mine, her heat burning into me. I've spent the last few weeks jerking off daily to memories of her; I don't want to expect anything that's she's not willing to freely give, especially because of our conversation after the ball on Thursday. But Lord knows, I'm just a man, and I can't pretend that the thought of her hands on me doesn't make me hard as a rock.

Laying on my back, I pull her up and over onto my bare chest. In the dark her lips find mine and I kiss her like we're two high school kids hiding under the bleachers. I've never been with someone who loves kissing as much as Gwen does. As much as I do. 

In between kisses she asks, "Are we still taking things slow?" Baby-soft hands move across my chest and sides, their touch light and seductive.

"Yeah, did you have something else in mind?" I figure that by the time we build up to actual sex, I'll have found a ton of other ways to please her. Ways that no one else has ever taken an interest in showing her. Ways that'll keep her coming back for more.

"No, I've just been looking forward to the next lesson, is all." Her leg crosses the midline of my body, the smooth skin of her thigh resting right on my dick underneath my sleep pants. "Show me what's next, Blake." Her voice is nothing more than a sexy whisper that's designed to reduce me to a boneless mass.

My hand slips inside the back of her pajama shorts and underwear, and grabs a handful of ass. She's tiny all over, but manages to have the perfect amount of cushion back here. I'm more than a little hard at the feel of her half on top of me, her sweet scent filling my nose. Using my grip on her as anchor, I begin to move her slowly on top of me, feeling myself harden with each pass. It would be so easy to lose control and let things go further that they should, but I have to rein myself in. Now would not be the right time and I don't want to ruin the trust I've been able to build so far. But I think of how hot and wet she gets for me and I can't resist the image of sliding right inside of her. 

Soon.

My dick leaps to full life. Afraid of what I may suggest, I roll her off of me and onto the bed while I try to get some air circulating to my brain again. She turns on her side, and her hand runs down the length of my torso, not stopping until she's got me fully in her grasp.

"Maybe I can help with this." Damn her voice sounds like a wet dream set to music. I don't object as she reaches in the drawstring waist of my bottoms and grabs ahold of my dick. Her hand is hot and soft, her fingers slim as they attempt to wrap around the shaft. Slowly it moves up and down and she asks, "Is this how you like it?".

The only answer I can seem to form is placing my hand on hers as she strokes me. I cover her hand in mine more firmly, gliding it back and forth painfully slow. I feel the tips of her nails graze across me as she does so, and I'm so afraid that I won't last long enough to not embarrass myself. I need something in my mouth quick, to block the moan that's trying to force its way out.

With my free hand I manage to work her top up and off, and she offers no resistance as I pull her toward my mouth, eager to taste her hardened nipples. Now I've got her gasps and soft sighs to accompany the movement of her hand. Gwen switches hands on me and adjusts her position to make her movements more continuous. She's starting to recognize that I like her hand tightening even more around the head of my dick as she pulls upward and that her fingertips gently massaging my balls is putting me that much closer to the edge. 

And right now I'm going over that edge. "Fuck!" My mouth releases her plump nipple and my head rolls back on my pillow. 

At the top of her pull, I come all over her hands. The feel of her nails on me providing a tinge of pain to usher me through the pleasure. This feels so much better than what I've been doing on my own and I slowly come down from the sharp peak of my orgasm. I grab my discarded shirt from the floor and use it to hastily wipe her hands and my dick. Before I can even finish my recovery, I maneuver her onto her back with my face between her thighs. She yelps in surprise and draws in a breath so deep, it's as if she won't be able to take one for the next couple of minutes. Through her shorts I smell her arousal and know that I have to taste her tonight, or lose my mind. 

"I want my tongue," I kiss her between her spread open legs, "right here." I look up at her, making out her pale features out in the dark, searching for permission.

"Yes," is the sweetest word I've heard all night, and as she says it, she pushes down on my head so I kiss her again, right between her legs, then on her thighs, then on her stomach. 

I pull down her sleep shorts and panties, tossing them somewhere into the darkness behind me. I know her eyes are closed in anticipation and I feel the sheets move as she takes a grip on them. Smart girl; she knows what's coming.

Free from any barrier now, I kiss the moist lips of her pussy, from the bottom all the way up. Using only my lips, I kiss her pussy open, encountering a delicious wetness there along the way. I need to take my time with this, take it slow, but her whimpers of approval make me want to go full speed ahead. My dick is hard again, but I press myself into the mattress; this is all about her. 

"Baby, you taste so good," and she does. I'm sure she's not used to the words of praise, but I know hearing them turns her on, so I give her what she needs. 

I take first the left, then the right lip in my mouth, gliding my tongue along the edge and the delicate interior. Her moan is loud, uninhibited, and exactly what I need to hear to know that she likes what I'm doing. I suck on them lightly, before my tongue ventures down to the hole where only my finger has ventured, so far. Sticking it in as far as it will go, I tongue fuck her as slowly and as deeply as I can. Based on the sudden moan that escapes her, the sensation catches her by surprise and she begins to move her hips lightly to maximize the feeling. I draw my tongue out, and move it to stroke along the inside of her pussy lips, again, intentionally avoiding the spot where she wants my touch the most.

I make no claims at being an expert on this; I'm just driven by the need to hear her make those soft moans in the back of her throat and feel her body as it alternately arches up and bears down on my mouth. My whole world is focused here on her body, at this moment. She runs her fingers through my hair, clutching at me as my mouth finally begins to near her clit. Her body almost quiets, her hips calming as my tongue begins to circle around that sensitive area. I'm in no rush; I take my time, in a lovingly slow spiral that is driving her out of her mind.

"Please...please..." Her nails dig into my scalp, but it doesn't deter me. This is what I want - Gwen so turned on that she can think of nothing else but her own pleasure, for once. 

"Please what?" I speak in between swipes of my tongue on either side of her clit. I hold her hips still in case she makes any move to force my hand...or tongue. "What do you want baby girl, just tell me." Let's see if she'll say the words.

"Blake..." Her whisper is insistent, still shy about voicing her desires.

"You want my mouth..." I blow a puff of air onto her swollen clit, "...right here, don't you? On your clit."

 _"Yes."_ She draws out the vowel sound, making the simple one-syllable word sound like a moaning plea. 

I begin the tongue spiral again, licking her own moisture from her pussy hole to add more lubrication. I pause for a moment just underneath her nub before I lightly once, then firmly twice, lick upwards. Her voice is loud now, bouncing off the walls of my room. Her hands frantically grab onto my arms as they hold her under and around her upper thighs. Her hips rock against my tongue, seeking more of the pleasure that it brings and I am helpless to do anything but give her more of what she wants.

My tongue moves every way possible, left to right, up to down, diagonally and once more spiraling as I make love to her with my mouth. It's a labor of love; each stroke meant to express how much I feel for her, until finally her legs begin to tremble.

Her skin breaks out in goosebumps and my hands find hers, holding onto them as she accelerates and crests. I've never heard a sexier sound in my life, than her screaming my name as my lips close around her clit for one last taste. As she begins to come down, I move my mouth away, focusing instead on kissing the mound above or her thighs below. 

She finally calms some, and I crawl up to her side, needing to hold her close to me. She moves against me like a kitten, and bends her head back to kiss me. Fuck, that's the hottest thing she could've done right now. She's tasting herself from my lips, her leg thrown over my hips as she does. I'm hard all over again, and her wetness is so close to my dick that I can almost feel it. I back my hips away. When the time is right, and no sooner. But fuck, if I don't wanna have all of her right now.

We fall asleep this way - wrapped around each other - her hand still on my face, her leg over mine, my arms still around her back, one hand on her ass.

Yup. I could do this all day, everyday, for the rest of my life.


	16. Present Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a busy week; CMA Awards for him, and a round of interviews on both coasts for her. With their schedules taking them to opposite areas of the country, how will Gwen and Blake manage to come together?

I haven't seen Blake since he left for Nashville last night. The CMA are live Wednesday evening, and he's there rehearsing and doing some interviews before awards night. It's like, so weird without him, because we've done literally _everything_ together for the longest time now. I _miss_ him.

Of course, he invited me to go, but he didn't tell me until yesterday morning. We were supposed to be watching TV, cuddled on his couch, when a commercial for the awards show came on. He took his hand out of my shirt and cursed under his breath, saying that he meant to ask me to go with him weeks ago, but that it had totally slipped his alcohol-addled brain. I know he only tells me the truth; he's never given me any reason to doubt anything he's said and it makes me feel so secure with him. That being said, way to go with the last minute invite.

I don't know if I'll be able to go, though. With "Used to Love You" doing so well, I've got a ton of radio interviews to do, and will be splitting my time between New York and L.A. as it is, this week. I've still got three rowdy kids to keep in mind too, although my mom or sister-in-law can always help me out there. Plus, he wants me to do the whole kit and kaboodle - red carpet and all. I told him that as much as I don't give a fuck about Miranda being there, I'd still rather hold off on any red carpet appearances until after I'm no longer legally tied to my ex. And there's something to be said for putting some time between their divorce and us showing up at a country event together; I don't want any type of confrontation or bad blood on _their_ big night. I don't think that my hair, makeup and stylists would be too thrilled with such an important last minute request, either. Besides, it'll give us something to look forward to next year. Shit, I've got to stop thinking like that. The song lyric floats across my consciousness: _"Do you not think so far ahead? 'Cause I been thinking 'bout forever"_. It's way too soon to be thinking about next week, let alone next year. Present tense only.

I'm in my bubble bath at home, just thinking about how awesome of a weekend it turned out to be. And as much as we tried to dodge the paparazzi, there were still pictures and reports out on the internet about me and my cowboy. Of course, those rumors were brought up in my two interviews today, and I'm guessing they will be again tomorrow. It's not as bad as I thought it would be though, and as long as I get to be truthful about where I am in my life right now, and feel love from my fans long-distance, it's worth every minute of awkward questioning. 

Propped up against the wall, my iPhone's FaceTime rings from the other end of my awesomely huge tub. I've been bringing it in the bathroom for a while now because sometimes I get good ideas and lyrics while I'm talking to God, and I have to write them down right away. But now, it's Blake calling and right away, my heart ratchets up a few notches. Although, I don't know if I will ever get used to calling him my boyfriend - um, I'm 46 years old; isn't that too mature to have a "boy"friend"? - my heart and body react to him as if I were a teenage girl going steady with the freaking quarterback of the football team. I answer the phone, scooting close to the screen so the only thing visible is my face.

"Hey, there's my country guy!" I'm all smiles. He looks so good, as usual, wearing his typical plaid shirt, blue eyes grinning and dimples on display just for me. 

"Hey, there's my ska princess! I still don't understand what the hell ska is exactly, but..." I've only explained it to him like a million times. I think he's being purposely obtuse because he wants to tease me. It's just like him to do something like that.

"How's Nashville?" It must be close to midnight there.

"Everything's going good, but I tell you what, I sure do miss you." That's one of the many things I adore about Blake. He's so open and honest with his feelings. I never have to wonder about him. He texts me to let me know he's thinking about me, and we FaceTime and he really goes out of his way to show me that I'm what he wants. It's so damn flattering.

"I miss you too, Blake Shelton."

He chuckles to himself, his nose crinkling up all cute as he laughs. "Why do you always say my full name like that?"

"I don't know." I shrug, some of the bubbles falling away from my shoulders as I do. "I never really thought about it. It just rolls off my tongue that way. It sounds so cute."

"Nah, you're the one who's cute." His voice dips to a tone that's more intimate, and I feel my breasts tingling in the water. My teeth pull on my bottom lip, hoping to stave off the intense arousal that I'm beginning to feel al-freaking-ready from this simple conversation.

Maybe I should change the subject? "Hey, guess where I am." 

"Well, it's about 9:40pm your time and you're only a party girl when I'm around so...I'd have to guess that you're at home." He looks so satisfied with himself, like he's being clever. For whatever reason, it makes me want to kiss him so bad.

"Duh! Of course I'm at home, but like, guess _where_." I really want him to know that I'm in the tub, for some reason. The new bolder Gwen is in effect. I'm so proud of me!

"Hmm, you're in the kitchen baking me a batch of cookies to bring when you come to Nashville on Wednesday." Again with the cleverness. I know he wants me to be there with him so much. He told me he isn't even expecting to win anything this time at the CMAs, but that he just wants me to experience his world again for a while, like I did at his ranch last month. I'd give anything to go, too. It's like wherever he is, that place turns into my new refuge, my new home, my new safe place, simply because he's there.

"Baby, I still don't know if I can come yet. But you know I'm working on it, right?". He nods his understanding and I give him one more shot.

"So, guess one more time." I get this super girly thing going on with him sometimes. Like now, my voice is all soft and playful, my smile showing off all of my very expensive dental work.

His finger taps on his bottom lip and he gets this gleam in his eyes. "You've put yourself in the corner because you've been a very naughty girl."

I laugh, partially to tamp down on how hot he's getting me, and partially because he comes up with the funniest, most ridiculous things to say to me. "You make being naughty sound so sexy." He's looking at my nearly bare face on his iPhone screen as if he could eat me up. I take note of that. "But that's not it."

"Where are you, pretty lady?" Full on grin now, charm making his blue eyes dance.

I push my body away from the end of the tub, floating backwards in the water so that now more than my face is visible. He can recognize the background of my bathroom, see the bubbles I'm immersed in and figure out that I'm totally naked here. I don't know what it is, but I've gotten so confident with him lately.

I giggle, and lifting up a hand full of suds, blow them at him. "I'm in the tub!" As if it weren't obvious.

His fingers rake through his hair and I wish they were mine. "Shit. Are you naked in there?"

Laughter spills from my mouth. He really says the silliest things. "What do you think? I'll give you another guess."

"Shit. One of these days, I'm think I'm gonna hafta join you." His expression is dead serious.

"Oh?" That thought is creating turbulence inside my stomach. "But I thought you said you hated baths."

"I do, but for you, I might have to make a few concessions." Yeah, he's serious. He's chewing his bottom lip, causing his dimples to play peek-a-boo with me.

The idea of his big and tall frame in this tub with me is almost more than I can bear to think about. I can imagine him climbing in behind me, water splashing all on the floor as he does. Tub time, play time. I blink rapidly, shaking my head to get myself back to the present. I'll hold onto that dream for later. 

He clears his throat, I guess somewhere off in his own fantasyland. "What's on tap for you tomorrow?"

"Well, I've got a TV interview with Kelly Ripa and Michael Strahan. I've never been on their show before." I've got to get up at 3:30 in the morning to get ready, then board my flight to New York.

"Oh, they're fun. They don't really get too much into the controversial shit, so you can really just relax and enjoy it. You'll love Kelly; I'm actually shocked that you don't already know her." It's awesome to be with someone in the prime of their career, like Blake is. We share so many experiences and can compare notes, or give each other a heads up on what's coming next. We really make quite a team together. 

"I'm kinda shocked about that too, but she's a New York girl, so...and then, I'm on Ryan Seacrest's radio show after that, back here in L.A." My song is top ten on the iTunes charts and I'm so amazed that deejays actually want to talk to me about it. Such a crazy blessing in the middle of all this chaos I've been through.

"Okay, wow, you're super busy, then." I can tell he's proud of me and all that's been happening. He's become my biggest supporter and I love it. "That's a lot of air travel for one day." He looks like he's trying to calculate something.

I know what he's thinking about: whether I'll even be up to flying back east before the awards show. "By tomorrow night, I'm hoping to know something definite. There are some other radio interviews to do, and some print interviews related to the makeup launch that have to be scheduled, and I'm not sure yet if they're gonna be on Wednesday or Thursday or next week, or where I'll have to be for each of them, so...we shall see."

Again, he nods, taking my answer for what it's worth. "Keep me posted, sunshine."

"I will." But I'm not satisfied that he understands how much I do want to be in Tennessee with him. I feel the need to express myself to him more. "We've been together so much that, like, it feels weird to not have you here with me. It's freaking insane how much I miss you, cowboy."

He musters up some macho guy attitude, popping his shirt collar and acting unaffected by my words. "That's a little somethin' I like to call, 'The Blake Effect', sweetheart." But then his voice softens, his emotions soaking his words like water would a tissue. "I miss you a whole helluva lot, too. More than you know."

My whole world is put on pause in that moment, our eyes locking as we both receive the sincerity intended by the other. I feel his words and they fill up a space in my heart. 

But sooner or later, someone has to break the silence. "I've got an early flight tomorrow, so I'm gonna finish up here and get to bed." Sounding weak to my own ears, my voice wiggles under the tension between us.

"You do that. Send me a picture before you fall asleep. I gotta make sure I have some sweet dreams." He's such a softie and I love that about him. He never mocks my tears or my emotional reactions, he just nurtures it, and lets me be me.

I blow him a kiss goodnight and hang up, posing for a selfie right here where I'm at, naked and almost barefaced in this tub of water.

 

Tuesday is crazy busy, flying from one coast to the other, and back, so by the time I finish my interview with Ryan Seacrest I'm exhausted, physically and mentally. I was in the hot seat during that show, like, fielding personal questions about my divorce and custody of the kids - which made me wanna puke my guts - and of course, The Cowboy. Ryan said that we seemed like too perfect of a story, and I was so proud of myself for responding how I did, telling Ryan that I wouldn't answer any specific questions about whether or not Blake and I are together. Then, just when he was ready to give up and move on to another topic, I couldn't contain myself, and I called Blake 'hot'. So much for keeping my big mouth shut.

Ryan asked me if I'd ever get married again, and honestly, that question caught me by surprise. I only ever wanted to get married once, and although I haven't given thought to marrying someone else at a later point, I'm not too sure that anyone wants to take on me and my crazy life and my three crazy kids for the long-term. But like I told Ryan, I'm not even thinking about something like that. If marriage ever comes around again, it'll be light years away from this moment in time. I'm so unlucky in love, that I probably should just retire that whole frame of mind, anyway.

The interview was good overall though, and as I leave the station to be driven home, I finally relax, allowing my mind to wander to its favorite place: thoughts of Blake. I check my phone; I'm still waiting on word about the remainder of my interviews, and although there's been none yet, but I'm probably too tired to hop on another plane today to fly to Nashville, regardless. I _would_ really love to see Blake though.

Speaking of the devil! My phone chimes, and I smile as I click on a message from him:  
**This is exactly how I feel right now...ignore the fact that his voice is better than mine.**

A second passes before I get another message:  
**But no pressure, okay?**

No pressure about what? A third text arrives, and I click on the attachment which opens up a video on YouTube. A song starts playing; it's something I definitely recognize, except I've only heard it sung by a woman.

_You can reach me by railway_  
_You can reach me by trailway_  
_You can reach me on an airplane_  
_You can reach me with your mind_  
_You can reach me by a caravan_  
_Cross the desert like an Arab man_  
_I don't care how you get here  
_ _Just get here if you can_

_There are hills and mountains between us_  
_Always something to get over_  
_If I had my way, surely you would be closer  
_ _I need you closer_

The man singing has a beautiful voice, and it's not long before tears fill my eyes as I listen to the heartfelt lyrics. This is definitely not a country tune and I'm guessing that means Blake went out of his way to find a song with words that perfectly fit what he wanted to say to me. How special is that? I understand what he texted now, 'no pressure'. I don't feel any pressure at all though, just an overwhelming desire to see him and hold his hand and be held by him. 

I've got to get to Nashville.

I place three calls: first, to my agent - to tell her I'll be out of town and unavailable until Thursday - and then to my mom. I ask her to pick the kids up and keep them for two nights - at my house or at hers - so I can go to Nashville.

She readily agrees to do so, she's such an awesome grandma, but sounds shocked when I tell her the reason why. "So, it's getting serious then, huh?"

"I really don't know, mom. It is, yeah, but I don't even want to think about it in terms like that. I'm just really enjoying myself with him and he's like, so incredible and he makes me happy right now. So for right now, I'm going with it." I ignore the fact that something in my words seems a little off to me. I mean, it's like my head and my heart are at war over what I've just said. 

"The magazines are saying that you're pregnant by him." I recognize that motherly concern in her voice. I've never really been a target of tabloids, so this is as new to her as it is to me. I know she doesn't want to come straight out and ask me, but in her own way, she's letting me know that she's wondering about the status of my relationship with Blake. 

But it's crazy to me that anyone cares enough about what's going on between us to splash it across the cover of a magazine. "Trust me, we haven't gotten that far yet, mom. And I can't get pregnant from kissing, so..." 

"Well, you just be careful, Gwen. You've got to get all this stuff with Gavin out of the way before you can really move on. You need some time to heal honey, and you shouldn't just jump into something new." The things I've told her about Blake have been very limited, because I've known that she would react like this. It makes sense, and I understand where she's coming from, but I just want to enjoy my time with him, without anyone raining on my parade.

"I know, you're right mom, but don't worry, it's not even like that." But isn't it? My words don't sound too convincing. When we're together I feel like I need him in my life so badly, but now that it's been two days without him, I'm beginning to doubt things, wondering if what I'm feeling is right and real. It's so stupid, though, because I'm heading straight back to be with him tonight. It's obviously already, 'like that'.

"Well, you're flying off at the last minute to go be with him. Sounds as though it is 'like that'." Ugh, she's right, and she echoes my thoughts exactly. I can't fool her and I can't fool myself. "But, at any rate, be careful, and take your time; there's no need to rush into anything."

"I know, thanks, and mom? I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know, and I love you too, honey. I just want what's best for you. Now go see that new boyfriend of yours." She sighs deeply, "Oh, to be young again!" Such a typical mom thing to say, and I laugh at her final words. 

"Bye, mom."

I hang up the phone and make one last call to my assistant. I need her to set up a flight to Nashville tonight, find out the weather there, and help me out with packing while I'm on the way home. When I finish, I put down my phone and stare out the window, reflecting on my recent conversation with my mom. Things with Blake _are_ getting serious. I'm flying out of town, last minute, on a school night to be with him. Knowing this, why did I just totally downplay my relationship with him to my mom? I don't really have the time to think deeply about what it all means though, because I need to text Lizzy a list of things to pack, so that she can get started with my bag. But first, I send two texts to Blake.

**"That song was so beautiful. I had tears. No pressure felt."**

**"I'm on my way."**

 

Blake has really got me loving this private jet thing. I've never had a reason to _not_ fly commercially; all of my out-of-town trips are always planned in advance, and other than the No Doubt gigs this past summer, I'm rarely in a place other than New York or Los Angeles. I never make last minute plans or head to small, non-airline-hub cities. Until now, that is. 

After I texted him that I was coming, Blake texted me back a smiley face, a thumbs up, and a sun. He's not really an emoji guy, so I had to laugh at that response. Now that the plane is finally landing, I'm getting nervous. I don't know why I'm second-guessing myself so much.

As the stairs are lowered for me to disembark, I look out the window to see Blake standing there, his long blue-jeans clad legs stretched out in front of him as he leans against the SUV. The pilot grabs my bag and leads the way down. By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, he's there, waiting for me with the cutest, happiest look on his face. It's like a movie or something, because I hurl myself at him and he hugs me so big, lifting my legs off the ground and twirling me around as if I weigh nothing. 

He cups my face in both of his hands, kissing me so sweetly, before hugging me some more. He hasn't said a word yet, but in the short space of time that I've been here, I know that he's missed me, he's glad that I decided to come, and he's excited to hang out with me in his second home of Nashville, during this important week. 

The kisses stop long enough for him to lean his forehead down on mine and finally say 'hello'.

My answer is a flirtatiously shy and happy, "Hi." How could I ever question if what I'm feeling is right or real? I've been in Nashville all of five minutes and I honestly know that the answer is 'both'. Already, that's more than I can say about the last relationship that I was in. One more kiss and then he takes me by the hand, opens the car door for me, and we get inside and head off.

 

Blake holds my hand the whole drive back to the hotel where he's staying. I don't know why I was so worried; nothing has changed between him and me. The attraction and compatibility are still there, just with a little more urgency since we've spent some time apart. I catch him up on my interviews and the success of the single, and he catches me up on his week so far in Nashville and some great news he's been meaning to tell me.

"So I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, but guess who's hosting the Kids Choice Awards in 2016?" He's all excited and giddy, for some reason.

I rack my brain trying to think. Who do I know that..."Adam? Pharrell?"

He frowns and looks semi-offended. "No! Guess again."

Who the hell...? I look over to see him doing that pointing thing he always does in the Blind Auditions on "The Voice". What the hell...?

"You? Oh my god, no way!" This is the last thing I ever expected him to tell me. It seems so random. "What? That is just _crazy_!"

"How did I know that's what you'd say?" The dimple on his right cheek appears with his smile.

"So wait, back up. How did all of this happen? What's the story behind this?" I turn my body toward his, back against the window and leg bent on the seat. There has to be a good reason he's decided to take this on.

"Well, remember when you said I was the last person you'd want to babysit your kids?" He's talking about some TV interview we did back for season 7, last year.

"Yeah, and I meant it too." He drank a lot more back then, though. He always portrayed himself as the fun guy, who only wanted to have a good time, not as someone who would be responsible for the life or well-being of a child. But in reality, I haven't seen him drink that much in the last few months, or felt that he'd endanger my kids in any way. "At least, I did, back then." 

"So, the network called me up and pitched me the gig, and at first I was like 'nah, they're barking up the wrong tree with me', but then I started to thinking..."

"...and?" I have a feeling that I know where this is going. 

"I figure, it can't be _too_ bad a thing to do right now," he glances over at me as he drives. "What, with the kids and all."

He means _my_ kids. He's done something professionally, outside of his usual lane, because he and I are together and I have three kids. I'm suddenly so emotional about this. As a mom, my kids are my everything, so the fact that he's putting forth this effort is beyond impressive; it's breathtaking. He is _clearly_ serious about our relationship. This man is so good for me. Matter of fact, he's _too_ good for me.

I take a moment to regain some composure, turning my head to look out the windshield at the full moon as it looms large ahead of us. There's so much I want to say, but I'm not sure that I can give voice to it all right now. Taking a deep breath, I look at him in the darkness before I answer. 

"Baby, that's so rad."

 

Midnight is less than an hour away by the time we make it to Blake's hotel room. It's been such a long day, for us both, and tomorrow promises to be the same - at least for him. I should be thinking about how soon I can get to sleep. All I'm thinking about is how soon we can get to bed.

Blake drops my bag on one of the chairs and I approach him as he turns to me. Without a word, my arm circles his neck and I pull his lips down to mine. I kiss him out of gratitude, for thinking so much of me and my sons; out of longing, I've missed his affection and touch over the last few days; out of desire, I'm already wet and I want him to come out and play.

Taking his cue from me, his hands brush my coat off, leaving me in my favorite ratty black t-shirt and black jeans. I kick off my heels, losing at least another three inches of height and Blake's hands attempt to compensate, by grabbing my ass and lifting me right up off the ground. My legs automatically go around him, and suddenly we're moving backwards. The wall now behind me is cold, but that's the perfect contrast to the heat I'm feeling everywhere else on my body.

His mouth drops to my ear, his tongue quickly darting behind my lobe to get a taste. It's unexpectedly sexy and I moan my appreciation. Either he's hella strong or I'm hella light, maybe both, because he moves one hand from under my body to basically feel me up through my shirt. I press myself into his palm, wishing I could lose all my clothes _right now_. I need his hands on my bare skin, his fingers touching my body without barrier. I get my wish as his hand skims up underneath the fabric, pushing my bra up and over my breast. His fingers close in on my nipple and with a delighted gasp I throw my head back. He takes advantage of this position, nipping at my neck - not enough to leave a mark probably, but enough so that I'll know his mouth has been there.

His dick rises between my legs, and I feel the press of it right at the space between my thighs. I can't help it; my hips begin to grind methodically against him, and I moan in pleasure.

"You're playing with fire, baby girl." His voice is shaky, gruff...clearly affected by my movements. 

"I'm already burning up over here, cowboy." Where did that voice come from? It sounds way too sexy to be mine.

He lowers me to the floor, and as soon as my feet touch, he pulls my shirt and bra off. I get busy unbuttoning his flannel. while his hands work under mine to get rid of my belt and jeans. I push my jeans down, and after pulling them off my ankles, drop to my knees. Blake is so tall, that my face only reaches mid-thigh on him, like this. 'I meet his gaze as my hand reaches up to his belt, undoing first it, then, his zipper. His eyes never leave my face as I pull the pants down and off, tossing them wherever they happen to land. He's wearing navy boxer briefs and my insides clench at the size of the erection tenting the front of them. My hands move to cover him, stroke him through the fabric, but before I can get all of him in my hands, he pulls me to standing. 

"Slow and steady, remember sweetness?" He backs me against the wall again, towering over me in a way that makes me feel so vulnerable. So hot. "You're gonna make me go too far, too fast, if I let you stay down there."

His hands ring my waist and mine go to his chest. I love the light dusting of hair there and on his stomach; that's new to me, the complete contrast of his torso compared to mine. My lips tease the skin right in front of me; his pecs and his collarbone, I riddle with kisses. I take a nipple between my teeth and bite down just a bit before sucking it into my mouth. The groan he makes is my indication that he likes how it feels. I make my way to the other side, letting the tip of my tongue lick over the bud first, before my teeth get a hold. I pull my mouth back, tugging the nipple with it and I feel his erection jump on my hip, where he has it pressed up against me.

Next thing I know, his legs dip and his hips roll forward, forcing the head of his dick, clothed in his underwear, right into the flimsy crotch of my thongs. This is the closest I've ever been to him penetrating me, and it feels almost too real. One hand at a time, he grabs my knees, pulling them around his body to clutch him at his hips. In this position, I am fully open to him. Without the barrier of our underwear, he'd be inside me right now. My breath quickens harshly at the thought.

"Does that feel good?" This has to be a rhetorical question. My arms are wrapped around his back and my fingernails are currently in his flesh, as he holds me tight to his body. The prickle of his body hair serves as reminder that this is different from anything I've ever experienced before.

His hips push into me, and my inner walls contract as if he were actually inside of me. I feel myself begin to throb. "It feels...so good." The words come out as gasps at his ear.

He touches my panties with his fingers. "You're so wet, Gwen. So fuckin' wet." His words turn me on more than I could've ever imagined. I love when he says this kind of shit; it makes me so aroused. It makes me feel like I'd do anything he asked me to, in those moments. Sometimes, I lie in bed at night thinking about his dirty words to me.

Here I go being bold. "You're the one that made me wet." 

"Fuck!" His hips begin a slow gyration into me. I must've been having an out of body experience the night after Adam's party, because I do not remember Blake being so thick or so long. My _god_ he's long. I'm going to have bruises on my hips from where his hands grasp me when this is all said and done, but I silently command them to stay right where they're at while he's making me feel this good.

We kiss but I can't keep up. I'm taking in gulps of air now as he has me pinned against the wall, his body pumping into my clit. I'm ready to detonate and he knows it.

"You're trembling; that means you're ready to come, right?" Dirty talking cowboy is my new favorite accent. "Go ahead and come, baby."

So I do. My nails bite into his skin and I cry out loudly as the pleasure overwhelms me. His hips still move, drawing out every ounce from me he can get, until I lay limp in his arms.

He carries me over to the bed, laying me across it gently. I pull him down for a kiss as his hands move to peel my thongs off. Before I can even think, he moves between my legs, his head bowed as his tongue strokes me back to life. A minute ago I was exhausted and spent, but now I'm fully awake and writhing in pleasure. 

It's amazing that he knows I love to be licked lightly, and that his finger moving slowly inside of me makes me go wild. When his lips close around my clit, my back arches, barely able to stand how damn good it feels. His mouth is like a suction, drawing that sensitive nub in and out, over and over. My legs spread as wide as they can and I draw my knees up, feet flat on the mattress. If this isn't the best thing I've ever felt, then it's fucking close.

"Baby _please,_ don't stop. Please." I shock myself. I'm already teetering on the edge of another climax. I feel hot and cold all over, my arms flying up over my head to anchor me to the headboard, and my voice weakening as my body shakes in anticipation.

With a breathy "Oh! Shit!", I come for the second time tonight. Blake's hands hold my hips down as my body rolls with the force of my orgasm, and colors swirl around in my vision. The rasp of his tongue is the best thing I've ever known, and I'm so glad to be his to taste. He rubs his beard against my inner thigh as I settle peacefully, kissing that set of lips one last time.

Later on, I'll remember him speaking softly in my ear, and kissing me, before covering me with a blanket. After that, there's nothing. It's been a long day and a good night, and I don't stir again until morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading and commenting. I totally appreciate you guys being a great audience.
> 
> HotlineBling, I miss you! Come back home!! Thanks for being a great support and always being honest.


	17. Inseparable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the week of the CMA Awards. How will Blake feel about having Gwen in Nashville with him? And what does he learn from a friend that could spell trouble for their relationship?

Wakin' up with Gwen Stefani beaming at me is better than any coffee, any alarm clock, any hot shower, any day of the week. She's not really a morning person either, but this morning she's shining up at me like a pure diamond. 

"What time do you have to get up today?" 

I don't wanna even think about leaving this bed or leaving this woman behind, but such is life. "I've got sound check at 1:30, so I'm not fixin' to get up until noon."

She yawns, pulling her phone over to check. "It's only a little after 9:00."

I yawn right back at her. "Then let's try to get this right, shall we?"

"Rolling over to go back to sleep is such a treat." With me lying on my back, she settles her head on my chest, her arm wrapped around me.

And that's exactly how I feel about her being here with me.

 

It's almost time for the show to start. Since my sound check, I've been rippin' and runnin': hair cut, interviews, and then that damn red carpet at the Bridgestone Arena. I haven't seen Gwen since I left the room, but I arranged for a car to come pick her up and bring her to meet me at the Warner Bros. after party. 

I'm more nervous about how she's gonna interact with people than I am about potentially crossing paths with Miranda. Luckily, everyone knows who Gwen is; her career in music has been so extensive and long-lasting, that I'm sure she probably has more fans in the room than I do. She'll also be the prettiest one there, so I've got to be prepared for her to be even more popular than I'm expecting. This is a huge night for country music, but an even huger one for me, personally. Her being here with me makes a statement: I've moved on, and quite happily so. 

As I expected, I leave the show empty-handed but I couldn't care less. The real prize should be waitin' on my arrival over at Music Row. I'm ridin' in the car, mindin' my own fuckin' business, when I get a text:

**Hey buddy! Where'd you get to so fast? I was wanting to come talk with ya.**

It's Luke Bryant. I'd normally have stayed and shot the shit with him some after the awards, but I've got something else on my mind tonight. _Someone_ else.

**Oh man, I got outta there soon as I could. Headed to the WB after party. Got someone waitin' on me over there.**

**So it IS true! Gwen Stefani is here with you? When they told me on the red carpet that y'all were dating I didn't know what to believe. You been holding out on me bud.**

I almost shit a brick. I mean the rumors have been goin' around for a while, but to ask Luke? That shit's crazy.

**They told you what on the red carpet?**

**That you two officially announced you were dating. I mean, that's true ain't it?**

Luke is a great friend, but I hadn't said anything to him out of respect for Gwen's wishes. Yeah, Adam has known we've been together for a while, but that's different. We've spent time together with him as a mutual friend. Gwen doesn't know Luke and I understand that she's been hesitant for word to get out about us due to her kids, and her divorce still being processed and all. Officially announced? I wonder if she knows about this.

**Man, we're just hanging out, having fun and supporting each other. She's an awesome person and I'm just lucky enough to get to spend some extra time with her lately.**

I hope that doesn't sound too practiced. I hate not being totally honest with my good friend, but I told Gwen that I'd follow her lead on this, and I'm stickin' to that.

**Sounds like some backtrackin' going on if you ask me.**

**But I didn't, now did I?**

**Yeah, you better hurry up over to that after party before she realizes that she's been having "fun" with a guy as tall as a tree and dumb as one.**

Maybe she knows about this already. Maybe she told her publicist to release a statement. I'm prayin' that's the case, 'cause if not...

**Fuck off, Bryant.**

**Don't forget...send me an invitation to the wedding.**

**Ha! From your fingers to God's eyes, dude.**

I can't even begin to think about marriage yet; we've got way too much bullshit to work through, first, but I won't pretend that it hasn't crossed my mind. Yeah, despite what Gwen and I talked about, I'm having trouble focusing on the present because my future is looking so damn appealing. For right now though, I'm gonna go mingle for a bit at this party, have a drink or two, and silently throw it in everyone's fuckin' face that I'm there tonight with the hottest girl in Nashville.

 

My eyes always find her straight off. She's in the middle of a room already swarming with people, in both the VIP and general sections. Loud twangy music is pumping through the speakers and there's tables holding trays of finger food, and a huge bar posted off to the side. But I only know this from memory. Nothing else is really registering with me right now 'cause I'm so zeroed in on her. 

It's hard to miss her: that white blonde hair is pulled up on top of her head, and she's wearing some skinny-strapped black tank top with her dark colored bra straps showing, as usual. I stand near the entrance of the big room we're in and lean back against the fancy pillar for a moment just to watch her while she's unaware. Whatever conversation she's having with the small group she's in must be a good one, because she's talking and laughing along with everyone else gathered. She looks over her shoulder as if she can feel my stare on her, turning first to the left, and then the right, before she meets my eyes. At my height, it's hard to remain incognito, and before too long someone comes my way, but I don't take my eyes off of Gwen until she bats those lashes and smiles at me.

She waits until my small talk is over before she approaches, grabbing my hand and squeezing it in greeting.

"How did everything go?" 

"I didn't win shit, but that doesn't even matter. It's still a great night." 

And it is. We mostly move through the party together, maintaining some type of physical contact. She's either holding my hand, or has hers in the back pocket of my jeans, or is leaning on me, her arm resting high on my shoulder, and she's doing it in a room full of people who know Miranda. Clearly, Gwen Stefani doesn't give a fuck. The few times that I'm pulled away, to take pictures or go shake some bigwig's hand, I always come back to find her talking with someone else who happens to big a fan of hers. It's so cool to witness her making waves in this room full of country artists and executives.

And everyone knows who she is, and everyone is curious, coming up to meet her and chat with her for a while. My girl is no novice, and ends up charming the pants off everyone she talks to. I love how relaxed she looks, too: she's got on some heels that are lower than normal, minimal jewelry and only has on a bit of make up. She's gorgeous when she's got all the hair and makeup and wardrobe and all, but there's something to be said for taking it down a few notches and still looking this damn good. Either way, she's beautiful, and she fits in, here in Music City, just as she would if we were in L.A. Knowing that is such a relief. 

After I've taken about all the chit-chat I can take, I make sure Gwen's ready to go, and text for the driver to pull the car around. I grab her jacket from coat check and help her in it. She takes my hand as we leave out the building and I notice she's still got her wine in her hand.

I cock an eyebrow at her and nod to the wineglass. "You thirsty, huh?"

"Well, it was like, really good and I wanted to finish it." She shrugs, unconcerned about the stemware she's running off with.

Just as I start to chuckle and tease her a bit, a flash interrupts me. That's so weird; paparazzi usually aren't too big of a worry down here, but lo and behold, here they are. 

Fuck! In the fun of the evening, I've forgotten all about the official statement Luke told me about. I need to tell Gwen about it, but not tonight, not while the paparazzi are taking pictures and she's still holding onto my hand so tight. Everything's gone so smoothly and she's been smelling so sweet and all I wanna think about for the rest of the evening is how perfectly her body fits against mine. 

I'll just save the trouble for tomorrow. 

 

 

"So like, was it weird, Blake? Being in the same space as her, but not being together?" We're in the hotel room. Gwen's walking back and forth between the bathroom and the bedroom, bringing me items, as I'm working on what's scattered on the bed, stuffing dirty clothes in my bag, so I can be ready for the flight back to Los Angeles tomorrow. 

"It was like looking back on something that seemed so far away. It's been less than, what...six freakin' months, but it feels like a _lifetime_ ago. So much has gone down since then, you know?" I pause, amazed at how much has changed for me in so little a time period. Miranda has gone from being my wife, loosely termed, to being a stranger with a familiar face. It's amazing how quickly that's happened. 

"Yeah, I know." Gwen leans back against the wall, her thumbs hooked into her jeans pockets to give off an air of casualness. "Did you feel anything? Like, some type of like 'man, I miss her' or 'wow, I'm so sad' or I don't know...anything. You know what I mean?"

That's a good question; what had I felt? "I felt a whole lotta, 'Damn, am I glad that's over with,' and maybe some annoyance when she gave her acceptance speech like, 'this is my one bright spot this year'. It felt like such a ploy for pity, I guess. But I felt like, 'gosh, I don't even know that person anymore'. I thought that maybe we might cross paths at the ceremony, but we never did." I shrug my shoulders, done with the topic. I honestly hadn't thought about Miranda more than the few seconds she was onstage accepting her award.

"Okay." Gwen seems satisfied with my answer, her mouth turning up at the corners for the first time since we got back to the hotel. It seems like whatever she had imagined I would say, was much worse than what I actually did say. I had no idea that this event could be stressful for her.

"Feelin' better now?" I sit down on the bed, pulling her from where she stands a few feet away, to being positioned right in front of me, between my bent legs. She looks down at me and nods. "Listen, sweetness, there's nothing for you to be concerned about. She and I didn't work out for a reason, and I've moved on and there's no looking back. You're my present and I don't want nobody else except you."

"I wasn't jealous, you know." It's that damn girly voice that gets me every time.

Sure, she wasn't. "I know." 

"Just... _curious_."

I shake my head in agreement, wrapping my arms around her. "Yup. That's the vibe I was getting, too." 

"Maybe just... this much jealous." She indicates a smallish space between her thumb and forefinger and breaks into a bigger smile with her confession.

With as much cheatin' as her ex did, I can't say as I blame her for asking me about Miranda. She was trained by Gavin to be suspicious and jealous, and then manipulated into feeling guilty for it. What she fails to realize though, is that Miranda can't hold a candle to her. It's not about comparisons, but if it were, Gwen would take first place in every category. Even beyond that, Gwen occupies spaces in my heart that I never even knew existed before. 

My head drops to her stomach and I inhale her, that scent that I will for the rest of my life, associate with the beauty who's standing here in my arms. I have the strongest urge right now to tell her exactly how I feel about her: that I love her and I can't ever imagine my life without her, but I don't. I know that she's not ready to receive all that I wanna give her, or hear everything that I need to tell her. Her head is still trying to wrap around the fact that life as she's known it all these years was a lie, and her heart is still bruised and raw from having her family broken up. It would be selfish and foolish of me to impose all of what I'm feeling, on top of all of what she's feeling. So for now, I patiently wait for her, and I just show her how I feel, no words required. 

I untuck her top from her pants, kissing the smooth plane of her stomach as I drag it up and off. Her black bra dips low in the middle, and I plant a soft kiss there, and on each clothed nipple. Meanwhile, my hands are removing her belt, sliding the leather through the loops on her jeans, before unbuttoning and lowering them. I help her step out of the pants and I stand, picking her up and lowering her to the crisp white sheets on the bed below. Discarding my shirt and boots, I lay on top of her, making sure to not bear all my weight down onto her body as it lies beneath mine. I press 'I love you's' into her skin with each kiss and loving lick of her body. My fingers engrave hopes for a million tomorrows on every peak and every valley. And as much as I'd like to brand my name on her heart, I know that I can only do so with her permission, so instead, I'm satisfied to make her cry out my name as my hands and mouth work together on every inch of her beautiful skin.

That is, I'm satisfied, for now.

 

 

"Wow, I missed like, 26 texts while we were on that three hour flight." 

We left Nashville this morning, and I almost hated to leave. I'd damn near begged Gwen to come be with me for the CMAs and she had. I got to see her - an outsider in the country music world - move around comfortably and competently, as if she'd been attending those events for years. And from all that she's shared with me, she enjoyed herself too and felt welcomed by those in my music community. What an awesome fuckin' time that was.

But fuck it all, because hell is about to break loose if those messages she reads are about what I _think_ they're gonna be about. 

She scrolls through her phone as I'm driving from the airport back to my place.

"Aw, this one is from King. It says 'Mom are you picking us up from school today? I want DelTaco, and Connie never lets us get any when she drives.'" I turn to see her smiling down at her screen. "I could actually go for a bean and cheese burrito myself, so maybe I will."

I wait as she continues to read messages, and can tell when she's found out the news, because her whole body tenses up and she holds her breath.

"'Gwen, congratulations, how come you didn't tell me?' 'Hey girl, so the rumors were true. Haha, so happy for you.' 'You and a country singer? Hey, whatever makes you happy, G! Call me when you get a chance.' 'So you finally told the world! It's about time. That Blake is such a hunk.'" She reads off several of her text messages, her voice confused more and more by each one that she pulls up. "What the fuck is going on? Why do I have 24 text messages about you and me?"

I bite the bullet, finally spitting out the information that I learned last night after the awards. "Seems that yesterday, right before the CMAs, your rep and mine officially confirmed that we are indeed dating."

Gwen weighs the information in her head before speaking. "But wait, why would they do that?"

"Look, I always told my rep that I was following your lead on this, and left it at that. Maybe your rep contacted mine and they made some kinda joint statement or something, Honestly, I couldn't tell ya for sure." That's the first call I'm gonna make whenever I get home, though. I didn't authorize any release of statements, especially since I already know how Gwen felt about everything.

She's upset, I can see it all on her face, all in her body language, but I think she's just mostly kind of in shock right now. "But I never wanted it announced that we're dating. I mean first of all, like, who cares, and secondly, who _does_ that? If I wanted to speak on it, I've had plenty of opportunity to do that this week in my interviews."

I throw my hands up off the wheel as if to say 'it wasn't me.' "All I know is that my buddy Luke mentioned something about it to me last night, saying someone asked him for his reaction to the news on the red carpet."

"So you knew last night? Baby, why didn't you tell me?" There's no anger in her voice, no accusation, but it still makes me feel uneasy as hell. 

"Because I wasn't for sure what had been stated, and I sure as hell wasn't gonna waste my time researchin' something that had already happened, instead of spending every minute enjoyin' the fact that you were in Nashville with me." I take advantage of the red light and turn to face her. "Plus, I figured it was something you and me could handle together, today. "

She's silent in her seat, going through the rest of the messages, shaking her head every so often in apparent disbelief.

"Sweetheart, they've got pictures of us holding hands. I know this didn't go the way you wanted it to, but I'm pretty sure those pictures of us leaving the party last night made as much, if not more, of an impact than any 'official statement' did."

"And like, you're right, yeah, but I have no control of who takes what pictures of me, but I _do_ have control over what statements I make to the world about who I'm dating. I'm like, so fucking stressed, right now. This is some crazy ass shit, right here"

Nope, she is not taking this well, at all. I see her point, but at the same time, it's not the end of the world. "Look, honey, we just need to get to the bottom of this, then. Where did the statements come from - that should be simple enough to figure out."

"Simple to like, figure out, sure, but it's already out there now and there's nothing else I can do about it. I'm still a legally married woman with three boys at home and they hear about everything. And I've still got lots of interviews left to do, and as if there weren't already enough to talk about based on rumor alone, now there's this." It's true, her situation is way more messy and complex than mine, and whereas mine is over and done with, she's still in the thick of hers.

"I'm sorry." The high that I've been floating on because of Nashville just seems to suddenly spring a leak and drop me right back to Earth. The fact that she's so upset about this makes me uneasy. For the first time ever, I'm concerned about how outside forces are gonna impact our relationship. It's a shitty feeling.

"Maybe it seems like I'm overreacting, but I just didn't want it to go this way, baby. And it's not about you, it's about me and the fact that my life is already literally crazy enough, and I don't, like, need to add another circus to it."

"This isn't how either of us planned things to go Gwen, but it's too late to change that. So, what do we do next?" She looks at me and sighs deeply, seeming to be at a loss. 

Her phone chimes in her hand at the same time as mine as it sits in the cup holder. She picks up my phone to compare with hers, and then reads the message aloud for my benefit: "Hey guys, looks like you two are the talk of the town. Congrats on being a hot topic. Are you both available to stop by and see me on set tomorrow sometime? I'll be there 11 until 8. Just let me know what time works best for both of you. It's kinda important. See you two tomorrow."

"Who's that from?" And why does it sound like we're being sent to the principal's office?

Her head drops back against the seat, and she turns away from me to look out the window. 

"It's from Carson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so awesome, continuing to read and comment as soon as I post. Thank you for being so positive and supportive.
> 
> And thanks, HotlineBling for always being you.


	18. Holding Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What challenge will Carson present to Gwen and Blake the week before the live shows of "The Voice" begin. What decision will Gwen make, and how will that affect their future together?

For most of my life, I've hated being so emotional. It makes me super sensitive about every-freaking-thing, and my feelings are always right at the surface, ready to pour out of me. Right now, I wish I could be more logical, less emotional. Because of all this craziness, my stomach is in a knot, while Blake seems so cool and level-headed. But, of course he would be; he's been down this road before, and he doesn't have as much at stake as I do: normalcy and privacy for myself and my family, along with some sense of control over my already insane life.

We're sitting at Blake's kitchen table, and have sorted through the mess as best we can. Some off-hand comment I made to Lizzy, my assistant, about doing 'whatever you have to do' was then passed on to my publicist, who together with Blake's, issued the official 'we're dating' statement. As we talked about it with them, it's apparent that it was an obvious mistake and miscommunication between everyone, and I take responsibility for my part in it. That doesn't make me feel any better, though.

Blake touches my hand, resting it on top of mine. "Wanna call Carson and see what's up?"

"No, not really." I give him a weak smile and turn my hand over, curling my fingers around his. Why can't it go back to just me and him, and a long weekend together where the rest of the world doesn't exist? "But, I guess it has to be done. Can you call? I don't feel like talking."

He makes the call and we settle on going in together right at 11:00. Blake's got a photo shoot for season 10 that starts at noon, so I offer to pick him up and drive us in. Carson wouldn't tell us what the meeting was about, just saying, "it's not bad news or anything; it's just important." That _still_ doesn't make me feel any better, though.

Actually, I feel as if my life is spinning out of control, at the moment. Since when is my life this crazy? Things have been moving so fast around me, both in positive and negative ways, but I'm getting dizzy from all the constant motion and I just need it all to stop. For a minute, I need to stand still and sift through all the madness. Is that too much to ask?

"So what are you thinking now? How are you feeling?" I've been pretty quiet since we made it back to his house, so unlike my typical self, and I know Blake is wondering where my head is at.

"I'm just exhausted and I want to go home and get in my bed and like, sleep for the rest of the day. That's not going to happen, but that's what I wish would happen."

"You ready for me to take you home then?" His voice is subdued and I can see the look of concern on his face. I'm pissed that he has to get wrapped up in this, and I'm hoping that my mood will improve by the time I see him tomorrow, because he deserves more than me being preoccupied and stressed out when we're together.

"I guess, yeah. I'm sorry Blake. I know this wasn't how you envisioned the day to go." This wasn't part of my plan either. I had wanted to come back and stay in the loved up state I was in when we first arrived. I had wanted to spend the afternoon here with him making out, not making phone calls.

"You're right honey, it wasn't, but things happen. More importantly, I just want you to be okay." His hand finds my leg under the table, and rubs back and forth over it through my jeans in a soothing gesture.

"I will be, I just need to like, get back to something normal and boring again. Being with you has been so exciting and I need to catch my breath." I attempt to lighten up the mood by making a joke, but I think we both know me well enough to see that it's not the solution I'm really looking for.

"Okay. I'll take you home." Standing and turning to grab his keys off the kitchen counter, he pauses to look down at me. "Sweetheart, are _we_ okay?"

He's so cute that I can't help but to get up and put my arms around him, laying my head on his chest. "Yeah, we're okay. When you've been through what I've been through, you learn that this kind of shit is nothing."

But after all that I've gone through, it takes next to nothing to make me an emotional wreck. 

 

 

"You seem to be feeling better today. Did some praying in the bathtub again?" I've been chatty since I picked Blake up from home, but it's all just a cover. I'm nervous as hell.

"You're so funny...but you're right. I took a bath and prayed and then went to sleep. I feel calmer today you know, but like, I'm not looking forward to this meeting. What do you think he's going to say?"

His hand smooths over his beard as he shakes his head repeatedly. "I don't know; wish I did." 

"We haven't violated some 'no-fraternization' clause, have we?" That's been the only thing I could think of. I don't remember anything about that in the papers, but then again, I was married when I signed on for the show, and my attorneys and I wouldn't have cared to notice anything about dating being forbidden amongst the coaches or staff.

"And even if we have, there ain't shit they can do about it." Reaching over, he pulls my hand into his, giving it a squeeze of solidarity. I'm so thankful that he's here with me for this.

Still, I'm dreading going into this meeting, and I avoid holding onto Blake's hand as he escorts me from the car, into the building, and to Carson's office. I'm trying to maintain an upbeat attitude, but until I know what he's called us in here for, I can't relax. This show is such a part of me now, and I don't want to do anything that would jeopardize my participation for now or future seasons.

When we make it to Carson Daly's office, the door is wide open and he greets us. I've know Carson for years, ever since appearing on his show on MTV, both with No Doubt and when I turned solo. He's always been a great guy, and I'm just hoping that I've been completely wrong in my thinking about what this is all about. Carson begins by asking Blake about the CMAs, and then tells me about what a great response that "Used to Love You" is getting on the radio. All this chit-chat is doing nothing to ease my shattered nerves. 

Carson clasps his hands together, indicating that he's ready to get down to business. "But enough with the small talk. I guess you two are wondering why I called you in here."

"You could say that, Mr. Executive Producer. We're sure as hell not in here to get a raise, so what's up?" Blake is sitting back in his chair seemingly relaxed, but I can tell that his body is tense. He's as keyed up about this little chat as I am, it appears.

I sit as stiff as a stone, looking between Blake and Carson as they speak. I have nothing to add to the conversation, probably because my stomach is in my throat and I'm nervous about what the bottom line will be.

Carson sighs and leans forward on his desk. Right then, my stomach starts roiling inside of me.

"Before I begin, let me preface this by saying that this is coming from Mark Burnett's office, okay? I'm just the messenger." He meets both of our eyes, waiting for acknowledgement before he continues speaking.

Blake hates it when people beat around the bush, and I know he wants Carson to get straight to the point. And now, so do I. "Well, what's the message?"

Carson continues to drag his feet. "He's adamant that your personal life is your own. Whatever you two choose to do...or not do together, is your own prerogative."

"'We're all adults here and we respect your decisions and your right to privacy.'" Blake mockingly repeats from the standard script of these types of awkward office conversations. "We got that part, Carson, now with all due respect, stop pussyfootin' around and just out with it already. I don't want Gwen any more upset than she already is."

I thought I was doing a pretty good job of disguising my feelings, but apparently not. Blake sees through me like I'm made of glass.

"Ok, I'll cut to the chase, then. Again, I'm not coming to you on my behalf. The higher ups are concerned about your romance overshadowing the show. You guys are already high-profile celebrities, and so the fact that you're an item now just takes that to another level, obviously. There's no such thing as bad press, as you already know, and the show is getting a lot of great publicity because of you two, but there's a fine line. We just need you two to maintain professionalism, and remember it's about these contestants and their journeys."

Carson finishes speaking as Blake and I turn to look at each other. I can tell that he's pissed, and if I wasn't already feeling like shit, I would've tried to talk him down or something. But this is too much for me; this is all too much.

"Carson, this is some bullshit and you know it. We haven't asked for any press, we haven't sought out any fuckin' paparazzi and we sure as hell haven't tried to overshadow anyone or their journeys. You tell us what we need to do to make that shit disappear and we'll do it. And Mark Burnett should be kissing our asses with all of this publicity, not trying to make it seem like we're some horny teenagers who can't keep their hands to themselves. That's a fuckin' insult. And why couldn't he come talk to us himself? Hey Carson, do me a favor and give him this message for me..."

"I will not." Carson holds up both hands, choosing the perfect moment to interrupt Blake's tirade. "Look, guys, I'm on your side, totally. This is a touchy subject, but I know you both and I'm confident that you know where the boundaries are. I'll just report back that I had a conversation with you both, and that all parties agreed to conduct themselves in a mature professional manner, and maintain proper working relationships. I know I have your word, Blake. Gwen, do you have anything to add?"

I manage to get out a quick "I think I'm gonna be sick" before I leave the room in a rush.

Fortunately, blotting my face with cold, wet paper towels staves off the waves of nausea that hit me, and I keep the contents of my stomach right where they are. I take my time before leaving the bathroom, making sure I'm ready to face whatever awaits me outside the doors. 'Whatever awaits me' turns out to be Blake. His back is against the wall across the hall from the bathroom, and he looks relieved when I come out.

"Gwen, are you okay, honey?" His hand cups my arm right above my elbow and his brows are etched with worry for me. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, everything stayed down." Sniffing and nodding gives me something else to do besides cry, so I go with it for the moment. "I just need some air."

"Sure." We walk outside and around to the private area where our trailers are located. Since production hasn't started up again yet, this whole lot is pretty quiet and deserted. I keep my hands shoved into my pockets, though; I don't want anyone to see Blake and I holding hands and deem us 'unprofessional'. God, my emotions are all over the place.

I slow down walking about halfway to the trailers, at a shaded picnic area under some tall palm trees. "How did things end up with Carson?"

"I don't know. I think I told Carson to tell Burnett that he could kiss the whitest part of my ass for making you upset." 

That makes me laugh and wrinkle my nose at the same time. 

"You've been havin' a real hard time with this." It's more of a statement than a question.

"I need to kind of step back and re-evaluate some things." It came out much more concise than how I had it worded in my head. I wasn't even exactly sure that I wanted to tell him anything at all, but it's too late now; there it is.

Blake steps in front of me, and my gaze rises from where I've been studying the ground beneath me all the way up to his sky blue eyes. "Some things like what, Gwen?"

"Mostly like what I'm doing here. I've never been a big tabloid draw, and like, all of the sudden that's all anyone can associate my name with. And now this talk with Carson about what Mark Burnett thinks of all this? It's too much today, and I just need to sit down and feel like the old me again, before all of this craziness started. I need to figure out my life."

"Is that the Gwen Stefani way of saying 'We need space' or 'I want us to see other people'?" He runs his hand through his hair nervously, but never looks anywhere else except straight at me.

Even the thought of those words makes my eyes fill up with tears. I pull on his elbow, bringing his hand down and into mine. "No, this isn't me breaking up with you. I wouldn't even know how to do that. This is me listening to myself, trying to sort my feelings out and figure out what to do next. I mean, like my mom said - how can I focus on closing one chapter of my life, if I'm already writing another one?"

Blake inhales as he looks off into the distance. He waits a beat before looking back at me and I can't read the expression on his face. "Well, sweetheart, that's a great question...it really is. And while you're out there figuring stuff out, do yourself a favor; I want you to listen real closely to what your gut is telling you to do."

I've always second guessed myself, always sought other people's opinions. "My gut, huh?"

"Your instinct, your women's intuition...whatever you wanna call it. I mean, you wear your heart on your sleeve, so it's real easy for you to hear what it's saying. But for once, listen to what your instincts are telling you - about you, about me, about us - and then follow it. Your heart can lead you off into no man's land, other people can give you what's true for them, but your gut'll never steer you wrong, sweetheart. You've built a career on these amazing songs where in your gut, you knew what was going on, but you let your heart override it. Don't live your life ignoring those instincts anymore; trust yourself. Go with your gut."

I nod my head, knowing that he's dead on. 

He stands up from the picnic table where he's been parked and a sad smile crosses his face. "You know what, darlin'? I'd fight anybody for you. _Any_ body. But the one person who I _can't_ fight for you, is you." 

He pulls me into his arms for a minute, sharing a warm hug that brings me to the brink of tears. My arms go up and around him, and again, I feel safer here than I've ever felt anywhere else.

"Look, I've gotta go inside and get to this photo shoot. Will you call me later on?"

"I will." I try to be brave and hold back the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes as I look at him.

With a kiss to my forehead, he nods before he turns and walks away.

I make it all the way back to my car before I break down and cry.

 

 

The rest of my day is busy. I'm finalizing some of the designs for my eyewear lines and listening to some mixes of songs I've already recorded, but I'm in such a fucked up mood, that I can't wait to get home and away from people. I need a glass of wine and a bath. My mind is still stuck on what Blake said: he can't fight me for me. He's been nothing but incredible to me - his sweet words have always been followed up by even sweeter actions, he's been honest and supportive through all my shit, and he makes it obvious that he wants to be with me, on my terms. Any hang-ups that remain between us exist solely because of me. Am I stuck in my own way, blocking my own happiness by thinking too much and not trusting myself to make the right decision this time around? If I'm supposed to listen to my gut, then the answer is already clear to me. It's just a matter of me fighting my way out and unlearning all the crap that I began to believe about myself, the last however many years.

Finally, I pull up to my house. The boys have already made it home from school, and rush up to me as I come through the door. They come to a stop in front of me: Kingston, my more rational child is holding his iPad and studying my face, while Zuma, my more rambunctious one, is spinning himself around in circles, getting himself dizzy and making his glasses fly off and onto the floor. 

He stops turning long enough to pick them up and address me, wobbling from dizziness as he does so. "Right mom? I told King that Blake is your boyfriend, but he doesn't even believe me."

"'Cause I know Jackson's sister told you that, and she doesn't know anything." I disagree; she knows too much. That little girl has the biggest mouth. She's the same one who told the boys where babies came from a couple of years ago. In accurate detail.

Zuma obviously firmly believes in his source. "Uh huh! Yes, she does."

"No, because she's always gets in big trouble for lying, remember?" Their voices are escalating, and World War Whatever is going to break out in a minute if don't put a stop to this.

"Excuse me boys; aren't you going to at least say 'hello' to me first?" Maybe changing the subject will buy me some time to think. Or redirect them from this whole topic, with any luck. "I just got home!"

"Hi mom. But Blake's your boyfriend, right?" Kingston picks up the thread now, no longer concerned with Jackson's sister's credibility.

What do I tell my kids? What's the right balance between telling them the truth and lying to protect them? This is exactly what I mean; I'm not ready yet to give them any answers, that's why I didn't want the questions. I need time to figure this all out, but my two oldest are standing here wanting my response. Now.

"Look, Blake is my really good friend, okay." That's not a lie, but it's not the truth either, and that's fine with me.

"Yeah, but they said you were kissing him." Typical Zuma, he starts making out with his hand before he tries to grab ahold of his brothers neck, much to Kingston's dismay.

"Ew, Zuma. Stop! Mom, that's so gross."

Which one: Zuma being Zuma or me kissing Blake? Either way: "I'm glad you think kissing is gross. Just wait a couple of years, and you won't feel that way anymore." I stroke down a fly-away hair on his head and pray that time will continue to crawl slowly, for now. My boys are going to be lady-killers, one day.

Not easily deterred, my middle son continues, "So, can we go to Blake's ranch now? Like for Christmas?"

"Yeah, that'd be so cool, mom!" They've both really taken to the whole cowboy lifestyle and enjoy riding horses and dressing the part. 

"I don't know; probably not for Christmas, but you guys should ask him and see what he says about it" I'm sure they'll see him on set at some point, and Blake has basically already given them an invitation to come visit.

"So, can he come over and play with us?" This is Kingston asking, and I'm just a little surprised. He's definitely more thoughtful and more of a daddy's boy than Zuma, and to hear him ask after Blake gives me some kind of new insight into how he feels about the cowboy.

"I'm sure he'd like that. I'll have to ask him and see what he says first, okay?" 'Come over and play' - I'd like that as much, if not more, than these guys would.

"Okay." They answer in unison, seeming to be satisfied with the answers I've given. 

Well, that was easy enough. It definitely was not as big of a deal as I had been anticipating. Dreading. "Now can I get some hugs from you two?" I lean down and hold onto Kingston first, then wrap my arms around Zuma who plasters me with kisses all over my cheek. He's my affectionate one. So much like me, in so many ways.

As they walk away I hear Zuma say, "See Kingston, I _told_ you mom kisses Blake," followed by some wet smacking noises.

"Zuma, get off of me!"

 

The boys' tutors have come and gone, dinner has been eaten and games have been played. Life on a daily basis is really not so much different than it was prior to the divorce. It's not like their dad helped out with anything domestically. When he was home, he tended to be in the studio or his office, or out in the pool or playing tennis. He did enjoy taking the boys out places, on 'little excursions' he liked to call them, but that might've been once a week, or so. I've got a crew of people to help me out, of course, but I've operated in sort of a single parent status for most of my sons' lives. 

"King...Zoom..it's time to head to your rooms to lay out what you want to wear for tomorrow. Let's go!" They race each other to the opposite end of the house, ahead of me and Apollo. This is usually one of their favorite parts of the evening, ranking right after free time and before dinner.

My phone chimes in my pocket. It's Blake. I feel guilty for not calling him yet, but God knows, every other thought I have is about him.

**I know you said you'd call, but...dammit I haven't talked to you since 11:30.**

I feel strange about it too. We both have crazy busy schedules sometimes, but we always manage to connect a few times throughout the day.

**It's just been an animal house around here as usual. I was gonna call as soon as I could catch a breath.**

**Oh okay. Should I let you go then?**

I think he deserves more than to just hear what I have to say over the phone. The very least I can do is go over and talk to him.

**Yeah, I'm almost at the finish line. But can I come over real quick once the boys are in bed?**

**Of course. Whenever is fine.**

Even through his typed message, I can tell that he's edgy. So am I. But I can't think about that now; I've got boys to get ready for bed.

**Okay I'll text you when I'm omw.**

 

I wash my face and reapply some mascara and lip gloss before I head over to the Hollywood Hills to see Blake. I need a little paint to color me courageous enough to say what needs to be said. I barely remember the fairly short drive over to his house, but the door's open for me when I arrive. 

He's FaceTiming someone, standing in his kitchen, body bent way down to lean his elbows on the Quartz countertops. When I stand awkwardly in the hall, he straightens, beckoning me over, and tells whoever he's been talking to that he'll get back with them the next day, before he ends the call. 

"Hey Gwen." He comes to his full height, his eyes shining as if he's happy to see me.

"I forgot to let you know I was on my way over. My bad."

"Don't worry about it. I told you to come over whenever. I meant it. That's a standing offer." I nod in acknowledgement and stop walking once I get to his living room, where I deposit my purse.

I have never felt this awkward around him, even when we first met and I knew next to nothing about who he was. I guess I need to spit out what I came over here to say, and just be done with it.

"In like 1999, I think, I wrote this song called 'Leftovers'." It was recorded for the _Return of Saturn_ , but wasn't even released on the album here in the U.S. "I had been with my ex for about 4 years by then, and I knew what the deal was. I mean, listen to the songs on that whole CD; by then, everyone knew what our deal was. But there is this one song, 'Leftovers', that always hits me as the most pitiful song I've ever written. It's literally like, 'I'll take whatever you give me - all your second hand shit, your crumbs, anything is better than nothing!'" I absent-mindedly take a step or two towards Blake, the heel of my shoes sounding like nails being hammered into the hardwoods of the flooring here.

"That lyric was as true on the day I wrote it, as it was on Feb. 9th of this year, when my life exploded in my face. You mentioned listening to myself, trusting my intuition." My feet bring me to the edge of the living room, where I stop, to continue my thinking aloud. "You were right. I had this fairy-tale idea of me and him that I clung to, despite what I heard, what I saw, what I felt to the contrary. As an artist, I've always trusted my intuition. On stage, when recording; I listen to my gut and go for it. But as the girl from Orange County, I've completely failed myself by doing the exact opposite. But that's something that's got to change."

He's standing stock still listening to me. His hands are in his pockets and his eyes never leave mine; I've got his full attention.

"It took me 16 years from the time I wrote that fucking song, until the time I got tired of being second, third, or fourth best. Fuck that. I was supposed to be _first_." I was _married_ to him for Christ's sake. "No fuck _that_! I was supposed to be _only_. Except I never was, and I never listened to my own advice, to my own songs, to my own instinct, and now it makes me want to throw up, literally. Now I've got the kind of relationship I've always wanted, and I can't seem to chill the fuck out and enjoy it." 

"The boys asked me about you today...if you were my boyfriend." Walking in his direction again, I stop on the opposite side of the counter from him, drumming my fingernails against the surface. "Then, they asked if they could go to your ranch. Then, they wanted to know if you could come over and play. I said I'd ask you, so...this is me asking."

"The decision is totally yours. You know I'd love to come over and hang out with them. And they're welcome anytime at the ranch, or over here for that matter. But it's up to what their mom wants to do." He meets me halfway along the edge of the counter, hands out of his pockets now, hanging, waiting at his side.

I meet him the other half of the way. "Blake, I'm sorry."

"I know, Gwen. It's alright." He brushes his knuckle down my cheek.

"No, it's not." Moving into his arms, I hug him and feel his chin resting on the top of my head. From his chest, I lift my head and meet his eyes. "You know I'm an emotional girl, right?" 

"You're right. You are." His head bobs up and down and he grins, his finger brushing from left to right across my jaw.

"Are you mad at me?" I figured he'd be so upset at me for leaving him hanging like that today, and for being such a needy, moody bitch, lately.

According to the wordless shake of his head, he's not. "I just want you to be all in; I wanna know that you're not gonna freak out and run away from me. I'm big and I'm strong and I can handle just about whatever shit you wanna throw my way." 

"I know. You've already proven that to me. And there's nowhere else for me to run."

"What did you decide about the paparazzi and the tabloids?" He's going through this mental checklist, of sorts, and I don't blame him. I've been as shaky as a fat lady on a one-legged stool. I must've heard Blake say that before, or something, because where in the hell did _that_ come from?

"I have no control over that, and that's okay. I actually think it's kind of funny that my life is suddenly so interesting, and yeah, it's kind of embarrassing to be so exposed, but that's like one minute out of a day that's filled with so many other awesome things, so I still come out ahead. I don't know, I guess we'll have to take that one on as it happens." Who knows, maybe all this worry is for nothing. "I just needed to stop and listen to myself; figure out what's real."

"And what did you figure out to be real?" His voice sounds cautious and I'm ready to give him my answer.

I loosen my hold on his body to place my hands on his torso in an act of possessiveness. "My family, my kids, my music...and you and me. What we have is real."

The brief kiss he drops on my lips let's me know that he's in agreement. "And what is your gut telling you to do?"

"It's telling me to be with the one person who's making me forget what it felt like to be sad." Sure, I've had some difficult days since he and I got together, but it's been nothing like how it was before. He brings such laughter and happiness to my life.

His fingertips make me shiver as they skim across the back of my neck and shoulders. "Darlin' stop fightin' it and stop runnin' from me, or else one of these times I'm gonna take it personal."

"I won't do that anymore." And finally, for the first time since we've been back in California, we kiss. His arms crush me to his body and my arms hold him tight around his neck. The thought of never being held like this by him again is enough to make me sick to my stomach. I've got layer after layer of emotion still to uncover, but I realize that I want to continue writing this new chapter; the last several have just been too painful. 

I know I've put him through the ringer, but as his tongue caresses mine, his lips marking me again and again, I realize that this is how it's meant to be: a country boy meets city girl love story, where we face whatever comes together. So far it's been unpredictable, but I have a feeling that it's going to be epic.

And we're just getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best! Thanks for reading and commenting and being so lovely about my version of the Shefani story.


	19. Just to Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Voice" live shows have begun. What will be the impact on Blake, now that he's able to spend more time with Gwen, consistently?

"This song is like, _totally_ us."

It's a fuckin' 90 degree day in November and I'm sitting in the passenger seat while Gwen's driving to Universal Studios. Yeah, my call time is 4pm. Yeah, it's only noon-ish. Yeah, I'm going onto the set four hours early: quality time with my girl, and all.

She turns up the radio, currently tuned into her favorite easy-listening station. I don't mind; I actually love the mostly 80s format featured here. One of the ladies from Fleetwood Mac is singing, and Gwen and I make eye contact, joining in on the one-line chorus, _'I wanna be with you everywhere.'_ Her voice is an octave higher than mine, my voice has that characteristic Oklahoma twang, but we sound good and both break out into giggles after we sing that lyric together. 

Well, she breaks out into a giggle; mine is more of a...manly chuckle.

It's true. We've been together almost every day of the past month, and probably a bit beyond that. I went over her house this weekend for a play date with her boys, by request, and then I took her out to the movies to see "The Martian". I don't think either one of us really wanted to see it, but it was over two hours long and had been released weeks earlier, so the theater wasn't as crowded. We really just wanted to get out of the house, and go somewhere dark for a while: no paparazzi cameras and no one to notice me sneaking salty popcorn-flavored kisses left and right. And now I'm on my way to spend four hours in her trailer, watching her get primped and prepped for the first live show of season 9. 

All because I wanna be with her everywhere.

"It's weird, because that's always been the case, even from day one." From the moment she showed up on stage - black outfit, black bra - singing "Hollaback Girl", I've just wanted to be in her presence. Hand to God, she's got some kinda magic over me.

Gwen's distracted, trying to merge into traffic, and once she does so, her eyes flit back over to me. "Hmm? What's always been the case?"

"Ever since I met you, I just wanted to be around you. First 'cause I thought you were so fuckin' hot," she gives her head a shake as if she can't believe what I've just said, "and then secondly because of your laugh and that damn smile. Then, it was just 'cause I had to get to know you better. I never thought I'd ever meet you, let alone get to hang out with you."

"'Hang out' meaning like, getting to dump an ice cold bucket of water on my head, right?" She punches my thigh, pretending to be angry that I picked her to do the ice bucket challenge.

"Hey...now that was for charity or something. Wasn't it?" When I found out that I got to tag three people to basically intimidate them into doing it, Gwen's was the first name that popped into my head. And I knew I had to be the one to get her.

"I think you just got off on torturing me though, right? Fuck awareness for ALS."

"Oh, is that what all of that fuss was for?" Of course, I understand the seriousness of the disease and the need for awareness and funds for research, but keeping up the playful banter between me and Gwen puts me in the best mood.

Her laugh rings through the air-conditioned SUV. "You're so bad. Just like the naughty little boys chasing the little girls on the playground at school." Ah, I fondly remember those days, as if they just happened.

"Same concept: the boy doesn't know how to tell the girl that he likes her...that she's cute and he wants to sit next to her so he can look at her all day. So, he goes and puts a frog down her shirt or makes her eat a mud pie or some shit like that."

"Thank God all you had was a bucket of ice water, then." She looks over her shoulder at me, outraged that I'd even mention doing such a thing to some fictional little girl. 

She drives on, quiet for a few seconds before glancing at me sideways, and then: "You thought I was cute?"

My voice no longer carries any hint of teasing, and I stare at her profile as she comes up to a stop sign. "Fuckin' beautiful." She turns to look at me, a small grin playing at the corners of her mouth, before it explodes into the smile that knocks me flat on my ass every single time.

 

 

This is my first time sitting in her trailer, watching her go from untouched and beautiful, to colorful and beautiful. It's amazing how much time and patience and preciseness goes into hair and makeup, but it gives us time to talk and laugh and just be together, so I'm all for it. 

I wait until the last minute to head over to my trailer to get ready, but as soon as I'm done, I'm back at hers. I ditched the flannel shirt tonight in favor of a white Oxford, and I know it was a good move, 'cause Gwen smiles as she looks me up and down more than once, when I come back in. She's zipping up some sexy boots that go up to her thighs, and even though I'm gonna miss her legs, there's something to be said for playing a little hide and seek. And she's wearing fishnets underneath that short dress. And that short dress has fringe that swings around her body when she walks. Dear God.

The best defense is a good offense. "Remember now Gwen, keep your eyes and your hands to yourself tonight." As if to prove a point, she moves my way, undoing one more button on my shirt and grabbing my lapel, anchoring herself as she moves in for a kiss, first to the corner of my mouth and then full-on. Kissing her is the sexiest fuckin' thing ever.

She pulls away with a grin and begins wiping off traces of her lipstick from my face. As her hand passes near my mouth, I grab her index finger lengthwise with my teeth, holding onto it gently. She gasps when the tip of my tongue sweeps across it, her eyes widening in surprise.

"You better watch it, Blake Shelton. You know we've already been warned." The breathiness in her voice betrays her words, though, and her eyes train themselves on my mouth before she sighs and looks away, grabbing her lipstick and sitting down at the vanity.

"Trust me, honey. I remember." I'm not one for fighting, but I was so keyed up that morning - for the implications that were made against us, along with how the whole thing made Gwen react. We're both over it now, but Mark Burnett can still kiss my ass, and I sure as hell haven't forgotten about it.

"But you look hella hot, so I might sneak a few peeks at you anyway." I'm mesmerized watching her reapply her lip color, so I don't answer. Since when did putting stuff on your lips become so sexy? Our eyes meet in the mirror and she ducks her head with a smile, batting them lashes at me. This is gonna be a great night.

 

Team Blake has the evening off, but Team Gwen is on, so I'm loving tonight. She looks so good on camera when they show her coaching her contestants before their performances. I get the chance to watch her cheer excitedly and bop along in her seat as the contestants sing, and witness her thrilled reactions as her team slaughters Adam's, for the most part. I try to think up a legitimate reason to directly address her during my comments, and I find one, but it's too distracting to maintain eye contact with her. I catch glimpses of her here and there along the way, and she does the same with me, but man, I'm itching for a change of seating assignment for the season. I only get to talk with her during commercials and I have the urge to touch her, but I resist, except for the one picture we get to take together with Pharrell.

That one kid on her team, Jeffrey Austin, is pretty damn amazing, singing a song that Gwen commented is about someone getting ready to fall in love. The one line that sticks with me is: _'Cause all that I've been thinking of, is maybe that you're mine.'_ Neither she nor I have spoken directly about our feelings, but I know without a doubt that I love her, and I'm hoping that I'm not being foolish for thinking that she feels the same about me. I just wonder if _she_ knows it yet. 

The only Adam team member that blows me away so far, is Jordan Smith, and he sings a song that has another perfect line, a simple one, but a true one: ' _I got my angel now_ '. The whole chorus just reminds me of how far my relationship with Gwen has come. It's like I recognized her, I saw that halo a fuckin' mile away, but until fate worked its way into our lives, there was nothing I could do about it. But now, everywhere I go, everywhere I look, there she is; there's my angel, the woman who saved me from myself, complete with her white blonde halo.

 

After the show is over, she makes a beeline over to me, doing some type of happy dance with her hands up in the air. "My team is so awesome, like can you even believe this? Like, what is going on?"

All that energy is cute and infectious, but I remember where I am and try my best to keep my cool. "I was definitely impressed by Team Gwen tonight. You're at least going to the semi-finals this year." Her success excites me as much as my own does, and I just want her to know that. 

"Hell yeah, I am!" 

We take our time leaving the set, and head back to our separate trailers to change and get ready to go home. The valet brings Gwen's Range Rover around and I mentally count down how many more days I'll have with her like this: twelve more. Sure doesn't seem like a lot, but I'm grateful to have that many. The more time I spend with her, the better person I'm becoming and the happier my life truly is.

 

"Cowboy, I saw you flashing those dimples at Amy Vachal." The smile she sends my way lets me know she's not as serious as she sounded, at first. We're rounding the last curve as we approach my house, and we've been comparing notes on all the night's performers. 

"Look, I can't help what my dimples do. You can't hold me responsible for them." I'm not blind; Amy is a pretty girl, but everyone fades in comparison to the woman who's now sitting on my left. "But what was up with that Viktor dude?"

"What do you mean 'what was up'?" 

"'Oh Gwen, I grew up on your music. You're so amazing, let me say _I love you_ in Turkish as I stare into your eyes.'" That dude has a crush on Gwen, and during their coaching session he was laying it on a little too thick for my liking.

"Oh my god," she bursts out laughing, knowing that I'm being as ridiculous as she just was. "Blake, he's Hungarian."

Hungary. Turkey. "Whatever, I knew it was one if those food-sounding countries."

"Well, I do have a thing for hot, younger guys, lately." She stops the SUV in front of my house, setting the parking break in this hilly area. As her hand reaches for mine, I have to take a second to think. I never remember that Gwen is older than me. Other than the fact that she's got those three boys, she acts and looks like someone who's closer to 30 than in their late 40s. "But the guy I'm really stuck on is sitting right here with me, holding my hand. Like, I can't believe I get this amazing chance to be on "The Voice" again, and I can't believe that I get to work with you on the show, and I _really_ can't believe that we're together like this, like, you and me. It's like so crazy, and every time I think about it, it like, blows my mind. I mean, you feel me, right?" A few streetlights filter in through the darkness of her car, casting shadows on her face. Her voice is full of awe and I hear the excitement that colors her words, and it draws me in.

My hand brushes her freshly washed cheek before cupping it and leaning down to kiss those full pink lips. I love the taste of her and how she quietly sighs into my mouth as my tongue finds hers. Her hand tightens its grip on mine as she still holds on, and I pull her closer to me with it, damning the center console of the car that prevents full body contact. My mouth stills on hers for just a second; our lips remain touching because I can't stand the thought of leaving their softness. "I feel you."

Twelve more nights like this one. It doesn't seem like a lot, but spread out the way they are, they'll take up another month and a half, or so. That gives me time - not to impress her, but to _show_ her. Show her that she let go of the wrong one, and found the right one. Show her that I'm not like that other guy, that to me she won't be second best. That she'll be my only, because dammit, she already is. By the time the finale comes, I wanna be able to say that Gwen is mine, not because I've claimed her in some way, but because she's given herself to me. From now on, I want to be the one she loves.

 

 

"Say 'like'."

Gwen's makeup and hair is done, but we're sitting in her trailer still dressed in what we wore to set. Her face is all glamorous when compared to the loose fitting tank top and torn jeans she's wearing. I haven't yet seen her outfit for tonight; it's hanging up on a garment rack somewhere behind me, but we're in no rush to leave our conversation behind in favor of getting dressed. We enjoy flirting with each other too much and there's a few minutes left before we've got to step foot on stage, anyways.

"Say _what_?"

"' _Like_ ', like, 'I like Gwen Stefani'...' _like_ '."

"'I like Gwen Stefani. _Like_.'" I like the little laugh that jumps out of her mouth, right then, too. 

She's sitting next to me on her couch, barefoot and legs crossed as she faces me, her hand laying casually in mine. This is the reason that I would be here at 9:00 in the morning, if I had to be; being with her is just plain good for me and I've never enjoyed spending time alone with someone more. "I love how you say that word. You make it sound like 'lock'. Actually, every word with that same sound..."

"Are you making fun of the way I talk?" I cut her off, narrowing my eyes at her in mock suspicion, waiting for a reaction.

"No," she covers up that sweet mouth as she laughs again. She's so feminine with those long nails and the sparkly rings that decorate her fingers. I love shit like that. "I'm actually complimenting you, cowboy; your accent is so cute. Completely different from the accents I'm used to, and I love it."

"Now, don't go trynna change me, woman!" As if I could speak any other way if I tried. I suck at mimicking other folk's accents.

"I wouldn't dream of it; you're already so freaking cute." Her fingertip trails across the back of my hand and my mind immediately goes to wondering: how would it feel to have all ten of her nails scraping up my back as I slowly glide into...

Her phone rings, interrupting my thoughts, and she reaches for it, putting it on speaker as she answers. "Hey Zuma, it's mom. What's up, son?"

"Kingston took all the Snickers from the Halloween candy bag and he won't share none of them with me and then he stuck his tongue out at me and told me I was fat and then I told him he was stupid and then he said he was gonna tell on me so I called you. Can you tell him to give me some Snickers?" I was starting to run out of breath for him, so I'm glad his ten-mile sentence is done. Fighting over a Snickers bar - sounds like he's got his priorities together, if you ask me. 

"Listen to me sweetheart, it's only 4:00 and neither of you gets candy until after dinner. And you're not fat; you're perfect the way God made you, but it wasn't nice to call your brother names either, okay? Now put Kingston on the phone."

She holds the phone down away from her mouth, pointing at it as she asks me, "Were you like this as a kid?"

"Who me?" I try to pull an innocent face, dimples and all. Maybe the dimples will sell this bold-faced lie. "No way, never."

Surprisingly, she shakes her head up and down, agreeing with me. "You're right. You were probably much worse." I nod, accepting her point as the more truer of our two statements.

I watch her handle her kids over the phone and I wonder when I can spend more time with them again. They're typical boys, hardheaded and rough and tumble, but good kids as I found out last weekend. They kicked my country ass playing video games, that's for damn sure, and they failed at trying to teach me how to whip a nae nae, or whatever that dance is called. I laughed harder than I had in a long while though, and struggled to keep my language rated G to meet Gwen's approval. I had to have the boys translate for Apollo seeing as how I don't speak toddler, and discovered that Kingston is a smart, kinda serious kid who likes to talk and listen, but that Zuma...he's so physical and off the wall and has enough energy to charge a dead cell phone battery. He reminds me of myself so much when I was his age. One things for sure, though; I can't wait to get them out to Tish and onto my ranch, so I can whup their little asses at something.

 

It's time for Team Blake to shine in our first live performances and I am so psyched. I swear, I've got the best team ever and I can't wait for them to show off what they've been working on. 

Since I haven't seen yet what she's wearing, I also can't wait for Gwen to come out on stage. The audience goes wild when her name is announced and she struts towards me wearing those black fishnets again, but this time with heels that show off her sexy ass legs. And she knows I like it too, because as she's walking, she does this 360 degree turn that sends her dress flying up around her lower body. I'm sure I have a big, stupid smile on my face watching her, and I hold her tight as she comes up and hugs me. She feels so right in my arms and smells so sweet, and I don't wanna let her go, but I'll have plenty of time for that later on. 

"You look so hot, cowboy." Her index finger stabs through the air at me as I let her go. I guess the cat had my tongue, so I hope she could read my mind as I shake my head in disbelief at this crazy woman I love: _Damn, you do too._

It's funny how I pay attention to each tiny detail now. I notice every little thing that's special about Gwen: her facial expressions when she's watching a performance, the sparkle in her laugh when I say something funny, how she uses her whole body as she's talking. She sits forward in her chair to see me and I lean back in mine, and sometimes vice versa, so we can see each other around Pharrell better. And when he stands up to applaud or talk, she looks at me and smiles - one of those, fun and flirty type smiles that says, "I'm happy to be here with you". Being on set and filming with her is like working on a project at school with your best friend: no matter what's going on, you can't have nothing but a good time with them. And I'm having the time of my life this season.

How can it get any better than this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we've made it this far in the story! I can't believe you guys are still reading along!! Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> Welcome back, HotlineBling!


	20. Now That I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that "The Voice" has started taping again, how will Gwen and Blake settle into their new routine? What will Gwen realize and how will the newfound knowledge make her feel?

So this is our new routine; I leave my house twenty minutes earlier than normal, to go pick up Blake and drive us both to set. When I mentioned that I didn't mind being his ride to and from the show, I thought that maybe he'd balk at it, or give me one of those half-hearted 'oh, you don't have to go and do that!' statements, but he didn't. He jumped at the offer, like white on rice, as he'd say. I mean, boyfriend or not, for him to want to leave home and hang around, just to watch me go from drab to fab means a lot. I think it means he loves being around me just as much as I love being around him.

And being around him just makes me feel so good, about everything. Of course, I die laughing before we even make it onto the soundstage parking lot, but other than that, we talk about so many things, and he listens to me. I don't know why, but I figured after a while, maybe his interest in me might wane, but it hasn't. He's hung out with my wild boys and he's _still_ just as crazy for me as ever, and even wants a rematch with Zuma and Kingston on one of their video games. How insane is that?

It's as if he's just seamlessly incorporated himself into my life. No matter where I'm at, no matter what I'm doing, I want to be with him. The thought of experiencing things together, sharing our lives even more so, makes me nervous, but excited. And it's so clear that I don't have to compete for Blake's attention. He reaches out to me and let's me know that he thinks I'm special. He pulls me in, spending time with me doing nothing, rather than being without me, and it's messing with my heart in a huge way. There's no more trying to fit my square peg into someone else's round hole, crossing my fingers hoping that the years of trying will wear the sides and corners down into a rounder shape. Blake and I just...fit. Effortlessly fit. _"And who would've thought it'd be the two of us?"_

"So, where is the cowboy, Gwen?" Danilo is styling my hair in a structured ponytail for tonight, and I'm daydreaming the afternoon away, waiting for Blake to get back.

"Oh, I was hella hungry, so he ran to get me something to eat. He should be here soon, though."

He laughs, picking up a pair of scissors to cut the seam on the weft of blond hair in his hands. "He is so sprung on you, honey, and from the looks of it, you are too. I'm just so honored to be watching the love blossom between two gorgeous people like this. I am in Hetero Heaven, I swear."

"Hetero Heaven?" He's always coming up with these phrases that are so funny. "You're too much, Danilo. But yeah, I'm falling so hard and so fast. Like, how did that happen? I can't even freaking imagine my life without Blake in it, anymore." I don't want to, either.

He pats my shoulder in an approving manner, "There's nothing like being with the right one, to help you move on from the wrong one."

"The 'right one'. You really think Blake's the right one for me?" Typical hairstylist-client relationship, here: we gossip and he gives me advice on all sorts of things. From his vantage point, he must have an interesting perspective of me and Blake together, and I'm curious now to know what he thinks.

"Hmm, let's see." He puts down the scissors and starts counting on his fingers. "He's replaced your tears with laughter. He's met your boys and hasn't run away screaming. He spends every available minute with you and he's not shy with the affection, either. And yes boo, you guys look amazingly hot together. It's been cloudy with you for a minute, and now you're shining brighter than I've ever seen you in all the years I've know you, Gwen. Just when you thought everything was falling apart, looks like shit was falling into place for you. Now that's a fucking beautiful love story. And this ponytail is fierce, if I must say so my damn self."

"Wow." I'm thrilled by his words regarding me and Blake, but it's just confirmation of what I already knew. This _has_ turned into a fucking beautiful love story. 

"Yes, 'wow' indeed, girl. Don't let what that asshole did block you from that blessed tall drink of water you've got now. This is the real thing, Gwen, and you both know it. It's written all over your faces." His hands are on my shoulders and he's looking at me in the mirror, just like a big brother giving advice to his little sister.

And he knows me better than most, having spent the last 15 years styling my hair. He's been more faithful to me than my ex was, that's for sure.

"Sometimes you just need to hear it. Thanks, Danilo."

 

 

I'm in a pissy mood on the way to drop Blake off after the results show. Emotional me, takes everything to heart, and I'm crushed that I had to send home three of my contestants tonight. More than once on the drive, he's wiped away tears that have rolled down my cheeks, and here he is, as we sit in front of his dimly lit house, doing it again.

"Listen, darlin'," I turn on the interior dome light to grab my bag and hunt around for some tissues. "It's not the end of their opportunities, it's just the end of this particular road."

"I know, you're right, but it just makes me sad." I find a few, and blot my eyes dry. "I'm such a cry-baby, I know."

"You've just have such an amazing heart. You've got to be the sweetest person I've ever known." I smile at him through my watery eyes. He always manages to compliment me, one way or another. 

"No, you're the sweet one." After the abrasive words I've cried over for the last 20 years, sweet is exactly what the doctor ordered for me. It's one of the most important traits Blake has, actually.

"How much you wanna bet that Adam is somewhere crying too, letting his wife rock him in her arms 'til he calms down."

I actually picture Adam, howling like a baby, and curled up in his wife's arms. I get a good, long giggle out of it and hit Blake on his shoulder. "You're so mean!"

"Wait a minute. You just said I was sweet!"

"You are. You're sweet to me. So sweet." 

The beauty of working on the show is that we're together all day from before noon until almost 9pm. The downside though, is that I have to race home to put my kids to bed on taping days, so I don't get any real alone time with Blake afterwards, other than the short drive to his house. 

The words are out of my mouth before I realize I'm thinking them. "I miss you."

"Whaddya mean by that? I've been with you all day."

Sometimes when I'm on an emotional roll, I can't stop. This is one of those times. Every feeling just bubbles up and out of me, and I say things without a filter, just speaking straight from my heart. "I miss you holding me, I miss your hands touching me. I don't know, I'm just like super emotional, and I feel like it's been so long since we got to like, make out and just be alone, and I think I need that, so bad."

"Shit." He takes ahold of my hand, the one laying closest to him, and kisses it, his eyes focused on mine. He layers more kisses up its length, until the sleeve of my shirt prevents him from going further. Then he leans into me, kissing the crook of my neck, my head falling off to the side, eyes closed. My skin burns where his lips touch me, and his arm sneaks around to the other side of my waist, pulling me as close as my car's interior design will allow. He takes his time, covering my neck with kisses, tugging lightly on my ear lobe, until I feel tingly all over. 

"Come inside, Gwen." His mouth smooths over mine. "I miss you too, baby girl, and I don't want us missing each other like this anymore."

God, his kisses blind me to anything else but him, so hungry they are on me. His tongue dances against mine and I clutch at him, unable to brace myself against the wave of desire that threatens to topple me over. No one has ever wanted me as much as I know _he_ wants me. It's an intoxicating feeling, and I'm adoring every ounce of his affection for me. I wonder if he realizes how badly I want to give him every single piece of me - heart, soul and body. I want him so bad, that I literally tremble. 

There's only one thing that's holding me back.

I break away from the passion of his kiss, knowing that I've started something that I can't finish tonight. "I've got to go; my babies are waiting up for me to get home."

He pulls me into him again, bruising my lips one more time before leaning his forehead against mine, staring straight into my soul with his beautiful eyes. "When can I get you alone?"

Good question. "Aren't you leaving for Tish tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it's been 25 years since my brother died. My mom never deals with it well and I need to go take care of her this week, otherwise I'd cancel everything and stay right here with you."

"Baby, I know you would. But you're such an incredible person and I know your mom needs you, so...I'll be here when you get back."

"Sunday afternoon, is when I'll be back."

"I'll come pick you up?"

"You do that." His head lowers to mine for the sweetest kiss; it takes my breath away with it's simple and real emotion, and brings tears springing back to my eyes. _He loves me._

"That kiss'll have to hold me over 'til I get back. Drive safely, sweetie. Let me know when you get home, okay?"

It's all I can do to nod as he closes my door, and I drive away knowing something that fills my heart in a way it's never been filled before. _He loves me._

 

It's Friday before I really get to talk to Blake for more than a moment here or there. I've had two interviews and am preparing to attend an event tomorrow, plus there's been some more time in the studio to keep me busy, but I miss seeing him and I miss seeing how he looks at me. I miss how I feel just being around him, or talking to him. I know that today is the anniversary of his brother Richie's death and he's home with his family, but is it selfish that I want to call and talk with him? Maybe just sending him a text will do for now. It's two hours later there than it is here, so maybe he's available.

**Hey my cowboy. Just thinking about you and missing you. xoxo**

I put my phone down and wander around my room for a bit, straightening up my closet, hoping I haven't interrupted anything that he's got going on. About ten minutes later, Blake replies.

**On my way from my aunt's house. I'll be calling you in a few**

When he does call, I plop myself in the nearest chair and fold my legs underneath me. I'm just so happy to hear his voice. 

"Hey, sweetness. I miss you too and you been on my mind." His voice sounds rugged and tired. I'm sure this has been a long and emotional day for him.

"How is everything going? It must be a really difficult time for everyone." I'm so blessed to have all of my siblings still with me, and even though I'm closer with some than others, we all still come together and function as a family.

"I've had better, that's for sure, but I feel alright just 'cause I'm talkin' to you, to tell the truth." I believe him when he says that; he always sounds so sincere with me.

"I wasn't sure if I should like, reach out to you today or not, but I couldn't go on anymore without hearing from you. I understand if you're busy."

"I'm not. Just came from dinner at my aunt's and now I'm headed back to my mom's. Nobody will be there for a while 'cept me though, so don't worry 'bout me being busy, 'cause I'm not. I'm glad you reached out." I notice his accent has intensified since he's been out of L.A. It's even more charming than usual, but I decide not to mention it.

"I don't know if you want to talk about it or not, but I want to know about your brother." He's mentioned his brother before in passing, but I don't know any of the details of his life or death.

"Richie Shelton was the typical cool older brother, and I was the typical baby of the family. He had ten years on me, but he never made me feel like I was a pest or that he didn't wanna be bothered with me. He loved music, from country rock to hip-hop. He's the reason why to this day, I know every single word of 'U Cant Touch This'."

I'm stunned by his admission. Blake's been holding out on me! "Wait, by MC Hammer?"

He laughs at my voice, knowing that's caught me off-guard. "That would be the one. Maybe I'll Well, drivin' home one night, Richie came 'round a curve too fast and slammed his car into an oak tree about 5 miles from home. I remember waking up to my mom screamin' and cryin' in the kitchen. I ran down the hall not knowin' what to think, or what to do. I've never felt so damn helpless in all of my life. That day 25 years ago changed everything, forever. That dude was my fuckin' hero and I don't think I've ever stopped trynna be like him."

"Blake that's so...wow, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." I'm sincerely at a loss, trying to fight back tears for Blake and his family.

"He was my momma's first born, y'know, and there's been that void in the family ever since. You'd think its get easier with each passin' year, but it don't. You just get used to livin' with the ache in your heart. Every year I come back so we can visit his grave and talk 'bout our memories of him. It's all we've got, really." My heart aches at the obvious pain in his voice. I've seen such a wide range of emotion from Blake, but this grief is a new one for me.

"He'd be so proud to see where you're at and what you're doing with your life, baby." I know very little about Richie, but if he was the guy that Blake says that he was, then I know this statement to be true.

"Huh." He pauses to mull the idea over in his mind for a minute. "That's what my momma said too. Y'know, I hope you're right."

The conversation eventually turns towards me and I can hear a lightness enter Blake's tone. Maybe taking time to talk with him isn't selfish, after all. Maybe he needs to fill a portion of this day with something other than pain and memories.

"What am I doing? Well, my boys are with their dad for the weekend, so I've actually got my first quiet night at home in a long while. It's only around 7:00, so I'm might order a pizza and sit in bed eating while I watch the black-and-white movie channel." This would've been the perfect weekend for a sleepover with Blake, but things didn't turn out that way. I'm glad he's with his family in Oklahoma, though; they need him and he needs them.

"So, no FaceTime bubble baths tonight?" 

Ah! There's the Blake Shelton that I know and lo..."No, probably not. I'm too lazy right now, and I'm hoping to get to bed early and sleep for as long as I can."

"I like sleeping with you." He's reading my mind. "I miss sleeping with you." Right there, he's doing it again.

"Me too: your body is always so warm and I'm like, always so cold. You keep my temperature stable." By now I'm snuggled down in the chair I've been sitting in, all along, holding onto the phone like it's the most precious thing in the world to me. And right now as my link to Blake, it kind of is.

His throaty laugh makes my stomach do a somersault. "I dunno if I like the sound of that. I'm pretty sure I'd prefer you to be hot and bothered in bed with me, more than 'stable'."

Haha, silly cowboy. "Oh wow, um, I don't think that's even an issue. I don't know if you recall or not, since it's been a minute, but I seem to remember you getting me to the boiling point. On several occasions." A shy giggle slips out of my mouth, remembering specifically the last time, back in Nashville. 

I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he counts back the days. "Damn, that was over a week ago!" 

"Exactly. I'm starting to forget what it feels like." A buzz of tension settles in the room, connecting me to him through the phone line. My mind rewinds and replays the intimate moments of each of those nights on a regular basis. There's no way I can forget how he's made my body feel.

Spirals start their dance in my stomach at the sound of his voice, deepened now as he speaks. "We can't have that, now can we? I don't ever want you forgetting what it feels like."

That buzz of tension turns into a full-blown hum. Words catch on my throat, forcing me to clear it before I can reply. "Blake, stop. There's nothing we can do right now, anyway."

"Stop what?" He knows exactly what I mean.

"Teasing me, making me wish you were here with me." Turning me on, making me weak...I sink lower into my chair, playing with the strap on my phone as I enjoy the feelings that are crashing over me.

"What would you do if I was?" 

His name comes out as a sigh, instead of the warning I intended it to be. "Blake..." It's one thing when he's here with me, saying those words that make my body ready for his touch, but over the phone, I'm even more shy. I don't know what I'd do if he was here, but there'd be more fingers and tongues, and much fewer clothes. I think back to the response he brought out of me last time, how he basically wore me out, then tucked me in. _That's_ what we'd be doing if he were here, right now.

"Gwen..." It's his turn to sigh on the other end, and i can imagine him running his long fingers through his thick head of hair. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known, inside and out. As much as I love comin' home, I love bein' where you are even more."

"Wow." From lustful to loving; how does he _do_ that? "I can't wait for you to come back, either."

"We'll work out our schedules a.s.a.p., darlin', I promise. If I can't get you alone soon, I think I'm gonna spontaneously combust." 

"Like, the same, okay? Seriously. It's that bad." I'm laughing, but I'm being totally honest; I've never been like this before, wanting anyone so badly.

"Enjoy your pizza and your old-timey movies. I'll see you Sunday, pretty lady." Depending on what the kids' dad decides to do, I might just have some time to spend with Blake on Sunday. I don't get my hopes up though. Mr. Rossdale is notorious for ruining my carefully laid plans. 

"Goodnight, cowboy." I hang up feeling better than I've felt all day. I love the effect he has on me, and I'm counting down the hours until he makes good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting!


	21. Almost Doesn't Count

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday Funday! Or is it?

My flight today was at 2pm, but that time has long since passed The great thing about private jets is that I can come and go whenever I decide, without the hassle of a crowded airport and seats that are too damned cramped and uncomfortable to accommodate my size. The downside is they can't cut through turbulence like the jumbo jets can. The rough air can do way more damage to these smaller airplanes and so once bad weather erupts, those suckers stay grounded, and that's just what's happened today. My pilot called me earlier this afternoon, saying that there was no way we could fly out until tomorrow. He'd already checked the weather forecast, and said that whatever front is passing through, should be way out east by then. 

So here's to one more night in Oklahoma. Any other time in the past, I would've been glad to say that; I love spending time on my ranch and away from the craziness of Los Angeles. But now, that craziness is home to the only person who's ever done such a complete takeover of my heart and mind. I never thought I'd say this, but I wish I was back in L.A. already.

Picking up my phone, I press the icon on the touchscreen so I can FaceTime Gwen and tell her the news. I enjoyed being home for some down time with my family, but I hate that we're not together. Being with her makes everything seem that much more special.

"Hey." She answers the phone smiling but breathless, like she was running to get it, and she's got the baby in her arms. He's holding a pacifier in his mouth, as usual.

"Hey, princess, what you up to?" I can't help but smile when I look at her. She's got on something black and her lips are a bright red. Boy, do I wish I was there to kiss that damn lipstick right off of her.

"Just getting back from taking the boys out to lunch; their dad dropped them off earlier than I had expected, but I'm happy they're home. Shouldn't you be on a plane headed this way?" I can see her maneuvering through her kitchen, walking down the hall to her bedroom.

"Yeah, I should be, but I'm not. Rough winds on account of some weather front passing through, so I'm grounded 'til tomorrow, unfortunately." I peel the trucker hat off my head, running my finger through my uncombed hair to express my frustration. 

"So, no alone time with you tonight, huh?" A sexy little pout decorates her face as she sits Apollo on her bed. That could've been me sitting on her bed, if it weren't for this crappy weather.

Just thinking about what could've been tonight is pissing me off, putting me in a foul mood as I sit here alone in this huge empty ranch. "Not tonight, darlin'. Let me give you a rain check on that one. You mind stayin' on the phone with me for a while; I need you to cheer me up."

"We need to cheer each other up. I'm bummed." She looks it. I suppose I do too.

"I'm pretty bummed myself. We're gonna try to get on up outta here tomorrow around noon, so I'll just get a car to the set, alright?" And if _that_ doesn't work, I'll have to get to Oklahoma City and fly commercial; there's just no other way around it.

I know she's not intending it, but that sexy pout is driving me fuckin' crazy. I wanna kiss her pretty lips until they reshape themselves into a smile. "Gwen Stefani is a lonely girl, right now." 

And Blake Shelton is a lonely boy. "You were looking forward to seeing me, huh?"

She shrugs her shoulders, looking unconcerned. "Yeah, maybe." Her phone is propped up against something, because she's got both hands on Apollo, taking off his shoes and jacket as he sits on her lap. If it weren't for that damn weather front passing through, she could've been on _my_ lap. Fuck. "Of _course_ , I was; I told you, I miss you."

"I had been countin' on a night full of nothin' but you, baby girl."

Her eyes flicker to mine and the longing in them matches the tone in my voice. I hear her slow sigh in the background and it makes me wish I could hold her to me right now. I love the feel of her skin - so soft and smooth as it touches mine. I love how she looks up at me, her brown eyes shining, making me feel like I'm the best thing she ever saw. I love how I feel just being around her; like every cell in my body is bouncing with energy; like no matter what else is happening in the world, in _my_ world, everything is beautiful.

Those brown eyes soften now as they stare back at me, and I send up a silent thank you for whoever figured out this video chat thing. This shit trumps a phone call, any day. "Everything got like, crazy all of the sudden with the live shows and all. We'll figure something out, right?"

"Well, what are you and the boys doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Going to my parents house. Everyone's coming over; you should come, too. They'd actually love to meet you." Apollo takes this moment to climb back into her arms. He looks at me and breaks out into a goofy little smile that squeezes my heart real tight. Gwen kisses him and leans in close to his ear, using her mom voice to speak. "Apollo, say 'hi' to Blake. Say 'hi', baby."

He waves at me frantically, his smile so wide that his pacifier threatens to topple out of his mouth. I probably look like a complete idiot grinning and waving back to him, but I don't care, because he's eating it up. That is one adorable kid; he gets it from his momma.

"Already promised my mom and aunt I'd be back here with them." I haven't spent Thanksgiving anywhere else than Oklahoma for almost a decade. Suddenly, I know four reasons why that may all be ready to change. "They asked me about you, y'know?"

"Really? Uh-oh, should I be scared?" She looks pleased to have been part of the conversation, though.

"No way. They asked me if you were as pretty in real life as you are on the show." They actually couldn't stop talking about her outfits and hairstyles and how fabulous Gwen looks. While I'll always just be 'lil Blake' to them, despite how many records I've sold, they view Gwen as a bona fide celebrity, and she is.

A dry laugh spills from her. "Ugh. I wasted all my cute years on what's-his-name."

"Not even close." She's so beautiful, that I could never grow tired of looking at her. How come she doesn't know that yet? "Then, they asked me what you were like."

"And you said..." A strand of blonde hair gets tucked behind her ear. 

"I said you were sweet and sensitive and funny and normal and a great mom and I don't remember it all, but a bunch of other true shit that makes you sound as fuckin' amazing as you really are." In reality, I couldn't stop talking about Gwen, and my mom pinned me with her knowing eyes and pronounced me in love, right then and there. How could I argue? A mother knows.

Her eyes grow wide at my kid-unfriendly language, but she laughs anyway. "'Other true shit'? Oh my god, that's _so_ romantic". She smooths Apollo's long curly hair with her hands. I remember her hands making the same movement on my hair the last time we kissed. Not fair. "You're funny, cowboy."

"Then, they asked me how serious we were."

"Oh...how'd you answer that?" Her voice quiets and the only motion she's making is rocking her baby side to side as he sits quietly in her lap, the only other person to ever hear such a private conversation between us.

"I said that I never saw this comin' between you and me. That you make me happier than I've probably ever been. That I can't imagine my life without you and that you're all I think about." There's so much more I'm leaving out, but I don't think the timing's right on me pouring out my heart, just yet. 

"Wow. That sounds really serious. I like how that sounds." Her eyes dart from me, to Apollo, and back again. "What you told your mom, like, it's so crazy because I could've said those same words, y'know?" She narrows her eyes at me as she twists her head towards one shoulder.

What I want to do, is lay it all out for her, tell her exactly how I feel, but I just can't bring myself to do it over this contraption I'm holding in my hand. "I want you to meet my mom. Trust me, she's gonna love you, and you're gonna love her."

"Well, you've got to invite me back out to the big OK for that to happen, right?"

"Anytime, just say the word." 

"Good." She starts pulling on the ends of her hair over one shoulder. Looks like Apollo is happy, just hanging out in his momma's arms. I know the feeling, little buddy. "Hey Blake?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think of like, how just a few months ago, you and me were in such a different, like, space? I mean like literally, two months ago, we hadn't even kissed."

"Yeah, but I had been wonderin' how it would be to kiss you for a long time. Like I said before, you were always the one person on my radar, the one person I felt like, 'man, if I ever got a chance with her..." I let the thought trail off. I'd been unhappily married and yeah, my mind had wandered - right in Gwen's direction during season 7 last year.

Gwen doesn't let the incomplete sentence remain unchallenged. "If you ever got a chance with me what?"

"'If I ever got a chance with you...you'd never regret giving me that chance."

"You're right: I don't regret it at all. It's like, this year I learned two things: who really cares about me and what's important to me. Pharrell has been like my number one fan; super supportive and just speaking, like such awesome things into my life. You met my friend Sophie at my concert in New York, remember? If it wasn't for her, I don't know where I would be - probably still at home, in my bed, crying and puking." Apollo wiggles his way out of her arms, and she lets him go running off. Finally, she and I are on the call alone, and I sense a subtle shift in mood. 

She pulls the phone from where it's been, holding it in her hands as she leans back against the headboard of her bed. "And then like you, because you've saved me. I mean, I knew you were going to be an important person in my life because of our connection in season 7, right? But then the show has been so much freaking fun, and given me like this great new purpose, and then you. I mean my heart was broken, like shattered this year, like _demolished_ , you know what I mean? But, it's like a miracle because the fact that I can even _think_ of giving my heart to someone else after all the shit that went down is like, so crazy. I don't know what happened or how you did it, but you're freaking incredible and I just can't believe how good you've made my life, or how much I want you in it."

It's not a confession of 'I love you', but how can I feel anything else but thrilled at her words? And when the right time appears, I'm going to tell her how I feel; not over the phone or in a text, but to her beautiful face. I just hope I can hold onto the words until the time is right.

 

 

Flight time between the Tishomingo Airpark and Burbank is right around 3 hours, but once my plane lands, there is one hell of an accident on the way to the highway from the airport. And I _still_ have to haul ass to get to my house and grab some clothes and shower before I can be driven over for my 4:00pm call time. And to make matters worse, Delilah chewed up my cell phone charger cord sometime overnight and my phone battery is at 15% by the time I realize it. It's too late to go buy another one, and I need all the juice in my phone to contact the car service and I'm hassled and rushed and having a fucking bad day already. I shoot Gwen a quick text once I'm in the car and on the way to set, just to let her know what's going on.

I rush to my trailer and get dressed and fussed over and manage to set foot on stage right on time. Gwen and Adam are still coming over from their trailers, I guess, because it's just me and Pharrell waiting as the warm-up guy begins his general comments and directions to the studio audience: no cell phones, keeping talking to a minimum, and cheering loud and wildly for their favorites. Now he begins the routine of announcing the coaches, with me always being the first. Just as I take a few steps I hear the backstage door slam shut; I'm thinking it's Adam and Gwen arriving. Pharrell is the next to be announced, and as he walks down to stand with me, he starts talking. I really like the guy, and try to tune in to what he's saying, but right now I just want to see Gwen. I have yet to lay eyes on her.

Finally, her name is announced and she comes from behind the dividing wall: all I can see is black and white and legs and a smile. The audience is going wild for her and I can't help but to join in with the huge applause that she's receiving. She's looking at me the whole time too, beaming with the brightest smile, and even from a distance I can see my excitement mirrored on her face. I shake my head at how adorable she is as she makes it down the walkway, skipping towards the end, like a happy little girl. As the emcee guy announces her name one more time, she offers up a two-handed wave to the crowd and then turns to me, making my heart stop by literally running the rest of the way into my arms. In that moment, all thoughts of Mark Burnett, professionalism, contestant spotlight and tabloid gossip are off the fuckin' table. I'm holding her tight to me and I can barely remember how to breathe. Gwen Stefani is the best thing my eyes have ever seen, my hands have ever touched, my arms have ever held, my lips have ever kissed. 

In our own world now, I lift her up like she weighs nothing, spinning her around. She's holding onto me tight and I don't know if I'm feeling her heart racing or mine. I'm so blessed because as much as I feel for her, I know she feels it right back for me; I've got all the proof I need right here. Regretfully, I lower her feet to the ground, and her eyes sparkle like chocolate diamonds up at me as she brushes her hand down my cheek. It feels like her fingers are igniting sparks along the way. I would give anything to be able to kiss her, but I want to take my time with it; after the show, I'll steal her before anyone else can and get a moment just for some lip service.. Before I realize it, Adam is on stage next to us and it's time for us to head to our chairs in preparation for Carson to start up the show. I love that she's walking so close to me, still short enough in those heels that I feel protective over her small frame. 

Her whole upper body is covered, neck and arms included, but her legs are encased in those fishnets, visible behind the strips of fabric she's wearing as an outfit. "You're not playing fair."

"What are you talking about, Blake Shelton?" Her voice has that flirty tone to it, the one that makes me want to pick her up and hold her in my lap and do things to her. Nasty things.

"Your dress looks like the strips of fabric that sweep over your car at a drive-through car wash place, and you already know how I feel about your legs. You just want me distracted all night." She has this thing of crossing and uncrossing her legs, on purpose I think, because she knows it drives me wild. 

"That might be true. I mean, you did mention something about spontaneously combusting, right?" She bats her eyes at me twice before smiling and heading towards her chair, leaving me wondering the fastest way to get that black onesie looking thing she's wearing unfastened. Maybe I'll find out during a commercial break.

And the show starts...now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than normal, but don't worry...the next one will hopefully make up for it (wink!). 
> 
> I got totally distracted by the fact that I'm going to see Gwen Stefani perform a mini-concert in L.A. in less than two weeks. I'm blessed for even having written this much after I got the news! Ahhhhhh!! So excited.
> 
> At any rate, I probably won't be posting every other day for a while. This is a crazy month for Shefani, and I will need to slow down my pace, especially with the trip to L.A. coming soon. But I will be posting still a few times a week; I can't abandon this story. Next chapter will be up Saturday or Sunday!
> 
> Love you guys!!!


	22. Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the aftermath of "the hug"? Will Gwen and Blake finally be able to carve out some time for each other, or will other things continue to get in the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, still keeping up with my posting schedule. Yay! Lol
> 
> Since the last chapter was a bit short, this one is a bit longer to make up for it. Enjoy! Thanks for all your sweet comments. It helps energize my writing sessions, for sure. Y'all are the best.
> 
> Thank you my Libra love for always having the right words to say to make a good chapter, even better.

Oh my god. My heart is racing out of my chest and I feel like I'm sweating through this turtleneck bodysuit. What the hell just happened?

I don't know what came over me. I was trying to play it so cool, but I should know better; I'm the furthest thing from cool. Not only did I _skip_ down the freaking walkway when I got closer to Blake, but then I ran into his arms like some girl greeting her boyfriend when he gets back from military deployment overseas. Our private moment displayed in a room full of hundreds of people. Yeah, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all of that, but it's like there's this shift in our relationship now. I don't know if it's in him, or in me, or in the both of us, but it's there. Like some new intensity between us that's taking my breath away. I missed him like crazy and was so psyched to see him, and now I can't believe I have to sit this far away from him for the next two hours.

When that pretty Amy Vachal starts singing "Hotline Bling", I almost lose my shit. Her set and background are so dark, complete with a huge blood red moon, that I can't see Blake's reaction to the song when I turn to look at him. He has to remember this song, right? It wasn't that long ago that we did Fallon and flirted our way through Drake's hit. But any doubts I may have had about his memory fade away as the lights come up and I look down his way to see him smirking at me. Yeah. He remembers. 

Carson asks for Blake's comments first, and I know this is going to be good as soon as he starts talking about the song being about a booty call - that's how I explained the lyric to him the first time we heard it together in my car and he asked me, "What in the hell is a hotline bling?". And I know it's going to be even better once Adam starts egging him on.

I look at him expectantly, knowing now that he remembers, and wondering whether or not he's going to acknowledge me at all. Why it's so important that he does that, I have no clue; it just is. Then he says it. It's not just that he says that I sang it to him on "The Tonight Show", but it's how he says it that gives my heart the shivers. I've never seen Blake be timid, but his voice gets a tinge of almost-shyness to it, like he remembers how hot it was: another instance of an intimate moment witnessed by way too many people. When our eyes finally meet up again, I'm pretty sure I'm glowing from a mixture of embarrassment and pride. I've never been so proud to be a girlfriend before. And from the sounds of it, the audience is getting a huge kick out of it, as well. 

The rest of the night goes by pretty quickly, actually, and I'm glad. There's this buzzing thing inside of me that's been building up since last week. It's super strong now, almost as if my body is tuned into his frequency, and the closer we get, the stronger it becomes. Of course after the show, there are hugs to be given, pictures to be taken and contestants to congratulate. My mind is half on what I'm doing and half on what I'd rather be doing; one eye on the person I'm talking to, and one eye on the person I'd rather be alone with right now. 

Eventually, Blake finds his way to my side, his hand sliding down my arm by way of greeting as he smiles at me. Zach Seabaugh approaches at that moment, asking for a picture of the three of us, and as we pose, I feel Blake's very large hand at the small of my back. He smells so good as he leans in close to me and I feel like everyone in the room can read my dirty thoughts: yes, I've seen Blake Shelton naked, and as soon as I get the chance, I'm going to see that shit again.

"Let's go; you ready?" His words are spoken low, in my ear, intimately.

I silently nod, not confident that my voice won't betray my current wound up state. I'm both emotional and horny, and I'm not sure how I would sound if I dared to speak.

We step out of the studio into the night air, taking our time as we make our way across the lot, and around the corner to our trailers. He's clasped my hand in his and as we walk his thumb swipes gently across my wrist, back and forth, now bared underneath the longsleeve of my bodysuit.

"You literally ran into my arms. Do you know how fuckin' _awesome_ that was?" The look on his face under the outdoor lights makes me smile on the inside as I look up at him. 

I'm in the mood to be sweet-talked, as is usually the case, and so I'm dying to hear his take on what went down. "No, tell me."

"I was like 'no way is this happening', but then it was, and I swung you around and it was like the happy ending to some romantic chick flick." My heart swells inside of my chest at his words and how joyful he sounds saying them.

"I didn't, like, plan on doing that. I was just excited to see you and I got all wrapped up in my feelings and I couldn't help it. I honestly forgot where I was for that moment." That's so true. Looking back now, I realize there was thunderous applause and lots of people whistling and cheering, but at that moment I had tunnel-vision and sudden onset deafness. My senses could only handle so much, and it was all about Blake.

We make it to the trailer area and he leads me by the hand over to his, where the lights of the parking lot don't hit quite as directly. "Me too. My god, you're so fuckin' adorable." 

It's like he can't wait another second until we climb the stairs and get inside, because his hands drop to my waist and he walks me a single step backwards, into the siding of the trailer. I feel my black tipped ponytail smash into my neck as his head lowers and my chin rises. Our lips meet in the middle for our first kiss since last week Wednesday. Just like my mood, the kiss is tender and sweet but laced with a darker, sexier element. Sliding under his blazer, my hands press against Blake's broad chest and around to his back. My hands have missed touching him, so much; my lips have missed kissing him, even more.

"Come on inside, cowboy." My words serve as an open invitation of sorts, but I take the words literally for now, grabbing his arm and climbing the two steps that lead into his dark trailer. 

"No lights." I don't want anyone happening to come by and seeing the lights on in here. I don't want any knocks on his door or potential interruptions of any kind. 

"Is this us working our schedules out?" He sits down on the long grey sofa, and thanks to the dim illumination from the lights outside, I'm able to see him take off his jacket and toss it aside. He lifts both of my hands in his and pulls me towards him. 

"Just for the moment. I'm going to need way more than this, though." I know I should be changing clothes and packing up to go home, but I'm feeling a little needy. And a little naughty.

"Remind me to work on that." Somehow, he's figured out how the harness connects and his hands are unsnapping the pieces and pulling them off. The whole unit drops to the floor and I step out of it, leaving me only rocking this bodysuit, my fishnets and stilettos. He's looking at me as if it were the world's sexiest outfit.

Even standing with my heels on, and Blake sitting, I only come a few inches above his head. Waiting another moment to kiss him would be suicidal and I slide my fingers into his hair with one hand, and push his shoulders back against the couch with the other, while my lips seek his out. At first, I just kiss his lips, slanting mine on top, then I nibble my way along his bottom lip before teasing him with my tongue. Every time I taste him, he's a sexy combination of sweet chewing gum, and something warm and inviting that's all his own.

Blake pulls me down to the couch, rearranging himself so that I'm lying down under him. He pulls my knee up to a bent position, so that his body is nestled in the cradle that it creates. The feel of him, heavy on top of me, is so arousing. Of course, he works to displace most of his weight so that I'm not uncomfortable, but I can still feel the telltale signs of his own arousal, and that feeds my own.

His fingers draw a line up my leg, from ankle to hip and then down again. I know he's obsessed with my legs, and obsessed with my legs in fishnets, and as he kisses me so tenderly and thoroughly, his hand serves to stimulate me even more. I get an added thrill knowing that we're basically still on the set and making out in his darkened trailer. There's something so risky about it and for now, this only adds to the fun I'm having. My hands wander down to his cute ass, and I pull him into me. I'm seriously playing with fire right now, but I love how he feels pressed up against me. Shit. He's as hard as a rock up against me and I feel like I'm melting all around him.

I rock my hips up against him, feeling him bump into me in the most pleasurable way. I spread my legs farther apart, and imagine what it would be like without any clothes to stop us from taking this further. The mental image is too much for me to handle right now; I feel like I'm overheating. A hand slides underneath me to push my bottom closer to his as we kiss, and instinctively, I wrap my leg around him, to maximize that most awesome point of contact. My hands push down on him again now, and my eyes close tight, flashes of light making it too bright in the semi-dark room. The moan that escapes my lips is so unintentional, but so perfect to describe exactly how amazing this all feels.

"Baby girl...we gotta slow _way_ down." His head is buried in my neck, his breath coming fast, and he backs his hips away from mine. "I know you don't wanna do this here, but I don't think my dick understands your logic."

He's right. I move to sit up and hug him to me, trying to regulate my heartbeat again without losing the feel of him next to me. "We've got to get out of here anyway, baby. It's late."

Not quite ready to go, he steals a few more kisses from me, going from sexy to sweet then playful. By the time we get up, I'm laughing, even with his lips still touching mine. He grabs me from behind with one hand, while scooping up my discarded houndstooth harness and his tossed-aside jacket with the other. 

"Let me make sure the coast is clear." He opens the trailer door and gets a lay of the land. "Okay, no one's around, let's go." Covering me with his jacket and holding the door open for me, Blake takes my hand as we head towards my trailer to get ready to leave Universal Studios for the night.

We're both in such a great, love-happy moods and he turns to me singing, "Ever since I left the city..."

 

 

"Yeah, but like I said before, Jeffrey Austin is the one to beat on your team." Blake is sitting in the passenger seat, hands toying with the jacket earrings I'm wearing, and driving me crazy. Intentionally or not, his hands just do things to me, I don't know.

"I'm torn between Emily Ann and Zach Seabaugh on your team, though. Like, Emily Ann has such a cool, pure voice, you know? And last week, she wore those rad cowboy boots and I was just..." My hands leave the steering wheel long enough to claw into the air in front of me, in a fit of fashion longing. "I want some sparkly cowboy boots like that."

He chuckles deeply, and I flash him an accompanying smile. "You should definitely get yourself some 'rad cowboy' boots. You'll be back on the ranch with me sometime soon I hope, and you'll need a pair."

"You're right. I gotta get me some cowboy boots!" I try on my best country accent and we both laugh at how ridiculous I sound. 

"What d'ya think about my boy, Zach?"

"Babe, he's so smooth; he's got 'heartthrob' written all over him." So does Blake, sitting over there in his cowboy uniform, hat turned to the back. The hot cowboy, indeed. "And that song he sang tonight?"

"'My Love'..." He fills in the title for me.

"Yeah, I liked that song. A lot." The lyric really spoke to me, and I could almost imagine that Blake picked it out especially for me to hear.

"The guys that sang that, Little Texas, had the big hair and curly perms back when that song was out, while I was still in high school." His hands surround his head, indicating the volume they must have achieved with tons of hairspray. "I always loved that song and I remember picking it out on my guitar, singing my heart out." The memory makes him grin.

I turn my head to look at him quickly. His fingers are playing in my phony ponytail now. He's just like my boys with his curious hands. "So like, you picked that for Zach, huh?"

There's a touch of sarcasm buttering his words, and it's not completely lost on me. "Yeah. For some _strange reason_ , I'm drawn to all these love songs now, and I hadn't heard that particular song in years, but I been thinking about that one here lately." 

"And why do you think that is?" I might be pressing my luck with the question, but somehow I don't think so. He's so honest, that if I ask, I might just get an answer that I'll like.

And I do. "'Cause it's a song that says a lot of what I wanna say to you." Thank God we're at a stop sign, because his hands stop playing with my hair, instead going to my chin, turning it towards him so that I can see the look of sincerity on his face. 

There goes that crazy wonderful feeling ricocheting through me again. _He loves me_. "I'll have to download it from iTunes and listen to the lyrics again." I dangle the bait out in front of him, wondering if he'll bite or not.

"That's an awesome idea, actually." He's looking like he wants to add something more to the statement, but before he can, we pull up in front of his house.

Instead he asks: "You wanna come inside for a minute?"

"Yeah, I _want,_ to..." God knows I do, but I love tucking my boys in at night. Who am I kidding, though? My body is still humming from making out with him on set and we've got some unfinished business to take care of.

"Sweetheart," he grabs my hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. The longing I hear in his voice echoes deep inside of me. "Just come inside with me for a little while: ten minutes, thirty minutes, hell, you don't ever have to go home again, if you don't want, but just for a little while."

By the clock on the car radio I see it's already past the boys' bedtime; I'll just text the nanny and let her know I'll be home in about an hour or so: half an hour here with him - give or take - and then the 15 minutes drive time to get home.

"Yeah, I'll come in. Just for a little while." I smile, but hold up finger in warning, to him, as well as to myself. He's so handsome, and I know I'll be tempted to stay longer, but I've got three cute little boys at home that I've got to see. 

He repeats my words, but his voice and facial expression show none of the playfulness that mine did. "Just for a little while." 

I leave my jacket in the car; the camouflage leggings and mustard colored long-sleeved top should be enough to keep me warm between here and his house. Blake comes around to my side, and takes my hand as he closes the car door for me. He's so tall, and I always love feeling tiny next to him: a new experience in my dating life. We walk so closely together, that I don't know how we manage not to be tangled up by the time we reach the door to his house. 

Holding my hand the entire time, he walks through the kitchen, turning on the pendant lights there, and then dimming the canned lights that are already on in the living room; it casts the area in an almost glow, of some sort. 

Before he sits down he turns to me, his hushed voice buoyant through the tense air between us, "You want something to drink?"

I swallow hard. "No, I'm good." Everything in the world that I want right now is already literally at my fingertips. 

I sit down first, tugging on his hand to pull him down next to me. Before I move to sit in his lap, I slide off my Adidas shoes - it's funny how I've adjusted my style since we've been together. He's so country casual and now, subconsciously, I've switched to flats instead of my usual heels, minimal makeup instead of a completely done-up face when we're together. I feel more comfortable this way, more balanced with him.

"You know what I _do_ want?" My fingers graze the sexy scruff that covers the bottom half of his gorgeous face, and my eyes follow their movements.

His eyebrows go up in surprise, as much as they do in question. "No; tell me. What do you want?"

Being with Blake makes me feel bold and sexy, both things entirely new to me when I'm not on a stage somewhere. I'm so used to being passive, and in a way, that will always be how I am, but it's so rewarding to just cut to the chase with him. I know he likes that, too. That's what I call a win-win situation.

And _safe_. I feel so safe, so secure. How is that possible in so little time together?

"I've led such a sheltered life until now." I wet my lips with my tongue under his steady gaze. His eyes take in my every facial feature, and he's listening so intently as my voice lowers to a near whisper. "I'd never dated a guy who didn't sound like he grew up outside of London. I'd never kissed a guy who didn't have brown eyes or a smooth jawline. I'd never been with someone who was taller than me, even in my highest heels, or someone whose shirt would dwarf me if I wore it."

I melt into him further as his hand comes up to casually round my waist. The tips of my nails trace his lips, so soft and inviting, but I need to finish what I want to say first. "I've never been with someone as gentle as you are with me, Blake, with someone who's so affectionate and sweet. With someone who pays attention to me like I'm the most fascinating thing on this planet." I look into his denim blue eyes, wanting him to fully understand what I'm trying to express. "It's the fucking sexiest thing I've ever experienced."

Inhaling deeply, I speak a bold truth. "You asked me to tell you what I want; I just want you to touch me. Everywhere. _Please_." 

"All you ever have to do is ask." One large hand reaches up to touch my face, practically covering the whole side of it, while the other slides under my long top, brushing past my skin. He leans down, and I swear, he kisses me like my lips are water, and he's been dying of thirst. His mouth drinks me in again and again, and I gasp for air in between, not wanting to leave him long enough to catch my breath.

He topples me over, and I'm on my back now, in much the same position as I was in his trailer not even an hour ago. I pull my shirt up and over my head, my black bra posing little barrier between his lips and what lies beneath. As Blake's body climbs on top of mine, I feel his knee come between my legs, his hardness pressing at my lower belly. My stomach drops to the floor and I feel blood rush towards the center of me. My mind is fuzzy and I feel buzzed, but in a way that even the finest wine or most expensive champagne couldn't accomplish.

"I hope you're wearing another turtleneck tomorrow," he breathes into my skin. Love bites get scattered along the delicate flesh of my collarbone, my chest, my nipples and the lower part of my neck. His teeth sink into my skin lightly; it wasn't until Blake's first nibble weeks ago that I even knew something like this would be such a huge turn-on. Each bite sends a shiver down my spine, and elicits a whimper of delight from me. He follows it up with a soft kiss or a loving taste from his tongue, and by the time he's done, my whole body tingles. "I never get tired of tasting you."

"But I think it's my turn, right?" I sit up, feeling a surge of power in being a woman taking a bit of control over this man right now. A new experience, to be sure, but it's going straight to my head. I push Blake backwards, pulling his long legs out from under him, allowing one foot to drop to the floor below. Crawling in his direction, my hands slide upwards along the legs of his jeans, reaching his thighs, and stopping to unbuckle his leather belt. Not quite believing how incredibly brazen I'm being, I somehow manage to maintain eye contact. I can't believe how hot he's making me feel, and consequently, act.

Blake's eyes are glued to mine, his face looking completely mesmerized by this entire display. He lifts his hips to aid me as I pull down his pants and underwear to his ankles, and off in one swipe, and I remove his boots before I sit astride him, just above his knees. As I look at him, all I wonder is _how is this going to ever fit_? My right fist surrounds his shaft closest to his body, then my left on top of that, then my right again and finally my left, at last covering the mushroom-shaped head of his dick. He's thick from bottom to top, and just like the rest of him, he's only lightly covered with hair. Clenching pleasurably at the thought, my body feels hot and moist even imagining him being inside of me.

"I haven't had tons of practice at this, so be patient with me, okay?" I back up, making my way down his legs to lie in between them, on my stomach. My tongue swipes from root to tip before I take as much of Blake's dick in my mouth as I can, which in all honesty is not a lot. It must feel good though, because he growls an appropriate curse word and clutches my arms immediately afterwards. 

I relax my jaw and shoulders more and try again, enjoying the clean male taste of him against my tongue. I pause at the head of his penis to suck lightly and he shudders underneath me. My eyes fly to his face for a closer look at his reactions, and I see that his eyes are shut tightly. I continue sucking, creating a suction with my mouth, working on taking just a bit more of him in each time. I keep a a firm fist around the base, sliding it up and down using the moisture from my mouth to ease the way. His groans are now rhythmic, matching the easy tempo I've established. I smile around his dick, still in my mouth. Maybe I _am_ good at this, after all. 

I don't want him to come too soon; I mean he always takes his time with me, and makes sure I'm almost half out of my mind with pleasure before he goes in for the kill. I want to do the same. I ease my mouth up and off of his stiffness, and set to explore, wanting to do something that I've never done before. One hand holding his dick so it leans a little closer to his body gives my head room to bend down. My fingertips surround his sensitive sac before I ever so lightly graze my nails down the skin. My tongue seeks to soothe it and I taste it tentatively, unsure of how much pressure I should use.

"Fuck, yeah."

I guess whatever pressure I'm using is right, because his voice sounds like he's experiencing some type of torturous pleasure. That's exactly the sound I was going for. As my tongue returns to lick around each of his balls, his hand comes down to cover mine. It's just been resting on his dick, keeping it away so that I'm free to roam, but he guides my hand now, stroking himself with my hand. One day, I'd love for him to show me how he does it, like I showed him that one time, but the thought runs in and out of my head as I hear his breathing ramp up. Emboldened by his responses so far, my lips open up, taking first one, then the other sac into my mouth. I try to be gentle, letting my tongue bathe each as it rolls lightly in my mouth. I slide them out slowly, letting my lips caress them one last time before my tongue slides up the length of his dick again, sucking it into my waiting mouth. I want to make him come now so bad, that I'm almost vibrating in anticipation.

Never before have I felt so sexy; my panties have gotten wetter, and so has my mouth as it descends down his shaft, going even further than before this time. The sounds of my slurping are loud in the room, as are the groans coming from the back of his throat. My hands return to play with his balls as I begin to suck in earnest. His hips rise with each downward motion, pushing the head of his penis further back into my mouth. I try to open up more and resist the gagging reflex that I know is bound to come. He must be getting close, because his fingers clench and unclench as they hold onto my upper arms. My jaw is getting tired and I try to relax my muscles, pushing my tongue out towards my bottom lip, taking a little more of Blake in the process. 

I've never enjoyed giving head this much and honestly, can't wait to taste him - that's my final thought before his warning comes: "Baby, fuck...I'm coming." I continue my actions, returning my fist to the base of his penis to milk him upwards as my mouth encloses him. My body tightens, and shivers pop up on my arms as he throws his head back and comes loudly. Salty warm liquid spills into my tongue, and I swallow it as my mouth continues to work, trying to draw every last drop of his orgasm out of him. 

Finally, the squirting stops and his penis softens some in my mouth. I release him and place soft kisses all along his length, up to the head, until his arms go underneath mine, pulling me up and on top of him. He says nothing, and kisses me softly, wordlessly, rolling me over so that my bare back touches the couch cushions, now warmed by his body.

Still no words, just his mouth kissing down my body, his tongue teasing my nipples and his hands palming my ass through the second-skin layer of leggings I'm wearing. He spends time loving my stomach, and my hands wander into his hair as his lips travel all around me there. Moving downward, he kisses me through the camo, his lips teasing me, and I wonder if he can tell how wet I am just from giving him a blowjob. His lips press more deeply into me now, and I inhale sharply, my hand moving to grasp the couch as an anchor. 

I feel his teeth glide against me through the fabric and my legs spread wider. I want him to take the leggings off, but that would mean pausing what he's doing right now, and I'm too far gone and don't want him to stop. His hands move to my inner thighs, opening me up further for his mouth to cover me, and then for the heel of his hand to rub my clit through the Lycra material. I'm so fucking wet that his movements feel like he's actually touching my naked body, and I can't take it anymore. Too soon, I'm coming, my voice crying out his name.

He breathes me in, his mouth nuzzling me through the leggings until my shudders calm. From between my legs he announces, "That's number one."


	23. Mouth to Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the craziness of their schedules, how do Gwen and Blake continue to make time for each other? What results does a conversation between Adam and Blake yield?

I love busy days like this, filming rehearsals and going over staging with Team Blake. I've got three strong contestants left on my team and I'm giving them as much nurturing and individualized attention as I can. While everyone sounds good this week, I'm most excited for Emily Ann's performance of "Why Not Me", an 80s song by The Judds. She's got such a sparkle in her voice when she sings, and the lyric is fun and playful, matching her youthful personality.

I also hate busy days like this, being apart from Gwen most of the day as she tapes in one space and I tape in another. We definitely attempt to see each other as much as possible, FaceTiming each other when we've got a minute and meeting up during filming breaks. And when we're not together, I'm thinking of Monday night, when Gwen's thirty minute visit turned into almost an hour and a half. She was so incredible that night, and I just _had_ to thank her: three times, as a matter of fact.

**Hey handsome. I heard there's some chick hanging around your trailer wanting you to come by and make out**

Ah, right on time: a text message from Gwen.

**Does she have curly hair and go by the name Rihanna? That girl's been stalking me**

**Lol nope. This chick is a suicide blonde. Wink!**

**Dyed by her own hands, huh? I'm curious. Tell her I'll be round in 5 minutes**

I start walking out of the building. I've got an hour for lunch, and I plan on spending it with her. It's no wonder I've lost so much weight; the only things I've been putting in my mouth lately, are Big League Chew and Gwen. 

She walks towards me, meeting me halfway with that beautiful smile as I approach my trailer. I love how her arms immediately go around my neck, her face automatically lifting for a kiss. Gone are the days of being unsure and worried about who might see us or what they might say; Gwen is fully invested in this relationship, to the exclusion of the outside noise, and I feel her confidence in us strengthening more every time I'm with her.

And we manage to keep things very professional inside the studios - sure, we stand next to each other, have private conversations or share longer-than-typical glances with each other - but we, for the _most_ part, don't get too handsy. Outside those walls though, it's a whole other fucking story. My hands fit inside her back pockets now, as I release her lips and we smile into each other's eyes.

I can't get enough of teasing her; I get a kick out of her responses. "I can't stay too long. There's s'posed to be some blonde chick waitin' in my trailer. They're sayin' she wants to spread herself all over me like peanut butter on a Ritz cracker."

She giggles and I go a little insane on the inside. "I told her to take a hike; the only one spreading herself for you anymore is me."

I laugh out loud at that fucking awesome comeback. "You're damn right, baby." One more kiss before I get her inside my trailer. Just one.

Yeah, she's sporting this newfound sexiness with me now. All of her insecurities aren't gone yet, but they're dropping off one by one; no more second guessing herself. The evidence of that was Monday after the show, when she took control of me, and blew my motherfuckin' mind with the hottest blowjob I've ever received. _"Build up your confidence, so you can be in top for once"_ : that line from the song has been in my head ever since the first live show, last week, and it's coming true. Like she keeps saying, she's coming out of her long-lived cocoon, butterfly-style.

She plops down on the grey couch, sliding her red ankle boots off of her feet. I sit down next to her, picking up her legs and swinging them over my lap. She leans back against the arm of the couch, supporting her reclining position.

"I told you I taped Ellen's show this morning, right?" First, we'll get caught up on each other's lives, then, we'll turn to each other's lips. Priorities.

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me how it went?"

"It was great; you know she's so fun." Gwen gets so animated when she talks sometimes, using her hands and switching up her voice. I can't help but give her all of my attention. "Before the show she was backstage in the green room with me all like, 'If I ask you a question about Blake, are you going to answer it?' and so I was just like, 'Go for it and we'll see!'."

This is gonna be good. "So what happened?"

"So then I'm on, and she asks about the show, right? And then she's all like, 'Gwen, you're so playful and relaxed now and I love watching you.' Then, they throw up this picture of you and me from last season where I'm like, sitting on your lap, right? And she's like, 'I don't know how _that_ got up there', playing all innocent and shit. And then we talked about you a little bit, and then she asks me if you're a good kisser."

I laugh at that, "You're kidding me!" before turning serious. "Did you answer her?"

"No way, dude! But I just laughed and smiled and kind of blushed, so that like, pretty much gave away the answer there." As if on cue, she grabs the black tips of her ponytail, toying with it as she looks up at me, shy smile in place. "You're an awesome kisser; you should know that by now."

Grabbing ahold of her waist, I pull her onto my lap, reducing the distance our mouths will have to travel. "Come show me."

Bubblegum and Gwen, that's about it.

 

 

I don't get a good 10 minutes into kissing my girl, when Adam starts knocking at the door. I know it's Adam because the dipshit is yelling, "Blake! I know you're in there. Unhand her and let me in!" Shit. There's no ignoring this idiot, either; I know he'd stay out there shouting all day if I let him.

Gwen pulls back from me with a sigh of regret. "Go let him in, baby. I've got some phone calls I need to be making anyway." 

And again, shit! I pull my hand out of Gwen's sweatshirt and adjust myself before opening the door. Leaning over to block his view inside, I show him just how excited I am to be interrupted. "What the fuck do you want, Adam?"

"Nice to see you too, Blake." He's got a huge grin on his face, as he brushes right past me, because he knows exactly what he's doing. He turns it on Gwen now, who's gotten her boots back on and is standing at my side. "Oh! And what a surprise, there's Gwen!"

"Hey, Adam." Gwen's smile is lacking its usual excitement as she lifts a lazy hand to wave at him.

"Hey, Gwen." He mimics her girlish tone but puts more enthusiasm into his wave.

Gwen kisses me on her way out, then reaches up to wipe off any remnants of lipstick she may have left behind on my face and neck. "See you later, baby; I'll text you, okay?" I nod, my eyes never leaving her as she steps down and out of the trailer. 

"Hey! Wait up!" Adam pokes his fool head out the door after her, and I step out on the top step to watch their interaction. "Where's my kiss?"

"Shut up, Adam." Gwen pauses to shoot a scowl at him before meeting my eyes and smiling just for me. 

As she turns and walks away, he hollers after her, "Gwen, I see some lipstick: I think you missed a spot!" 

She never even turns around, just raises up her hand and flips him the bird. "Attagirl!" I yell after her, with a chuckle. I love her so much.

Adam comes back inside and I follow, closing the door behind us. "Ooh! She's getting rather sassy, don't you think, Blake?"

"Yeah, and I love it. And again I ask, what the fuck do you want, Adam?"

All of his movements come to a halt. He looks around and starts sniffing, like some bloodhound. "Wait a minute...did I interrupt something between you two?"

I can't help myself; I'm a naughty boy. "Well, if the trailer is a-rockin'..." and I throw my hands up in a helpless what-can-I-do pose, as I take a seat.

"First, she throws herself into your waiting arms in front of everyone, and now you guys are taking an afternoon delight instead of eating during your lunch breaks..."

"Hey, it's not like _that_." As good as it sounds, I don't want Adam getting the wrong idea about what we were doing in here. "This is just a make out spot sometimes, buddy."

"Well, either way, you two are getting kind of serious, am I right?" He looks so smug standing there, as if he set me and Gwen up or something. I just want to smack that dumb smile right off of his dumb face.

Adam leans back against the cabinets directly across from me, arms folded and I lean his way, elbows on my knees, as if to share some secret information. "Man, get this shit...I love her. I'm _in_ love with her. Being with her is...I've never before felt what I feel when I'm with her." My mom knows, and now Adam. It's actually a relief to be able to tell him.

"Wow." He gets suddenly serious, moving to pull up a chair from the kitchen table to sit down in front of me. "What the fuck, dude. Does Gwen know? Did you tell her? What'd she say?"

"Not yet." I slouch against the pillows behind me on the sofa, releasing some of my anxiety in a sigh. 

"What the fuck are you waiting for, Blake? You chickenshit or something? Do you think that she doesn't feel the same? What is it, buddy?" His hyper, rapid-fire questions are making me even more nervous.

"I dunno, man; is it too soon? I mean, I know she has feelings for me, too. She looks at me like she's a kid on Christmas Day and I'm Santa Claus. I'm just...waitin' on the right moment."

"Define 'too soon'. When's the 'right moment'?" Fuck Adam, and his goofy air quotes.

But I wish I had the answers to the questions he's asked me. "I don't know yet, but when the time comes, I just gotta be ready. She's so fuckin' special, everything about her is so right for me, you know?"

"She's got three boys Blake; do you know what you're getting yourself into, man? Just last year she said she wouldn't even trust you to babysit." Thinking back to that interview, he laughs at the memory.

I feel an ache at the memory. "I've been workin' on that too. I've spent some time with her boys, and plan on spendin' some more. I've gotta get to know them and win them over, just like I have their mom."

"You're really fucking serious about this. Man, consider my mind blown." His hands rub through his hair and he shakes his head back and forth, trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing. I know that look, because I've sported it myself in the last few months. "I really thought she had better taste than that, but considering she was with that bastard Gavin, I guess anyone is a step in the right direction."

"And you can go fuck yourself." 

I temper my words with a sarcastic grin.

"Well, I just wanted to stop by because I miss my friend. I know you've got the girl of everyone's dreams, and you're pursuing her kids now, too, but I miss you man. Come hang with me one of these days." He's right. I've been wrapped up in this relationship almost to the exclusion of all others, but I'm glad he seems to understand.

I stand up now; it's almost time to get back to work. "I know man, everything's just happened so fast and it's so intense. I'll call you this weekend and we can set somethin' up." Other than going to some event with Gwen tonight, I don't have much else planned for the rest of the week.

With a fake cry he stands up too, and falls right into me, "I love you, man!"

"I love you too." I grab his head with both hands and squeeze down on it as I kiss his cheek. He hates it when I do that.

"Get the fuck off of me, you jackass!"

 

 

Gwen takes off her black jacket as we get in her car, revealing a white shirt with ruffles down the front, along with her jeans and high heel boots. Of course, she looks hot. "So, it's Jennifer Meyer's launch for her new collection with Barneys New York."

I asked Gwen where we were headed tonight, but her answer doesn't give me any more of a clue than I already had.

"Barneys New York...but we're going to her house in L.A." Already this shit doesn't make sense, but Gwen and I take every chance to be together, and tonight's chance finds me at some fashion thing.

"Yeah, she actually lives in Brentwood with her family. She's married to Tobey Maguire, the actor." 

That name sounds kind of familiar. "And he's played in...?"

"Those 'Spiderman' movies. Not the newer ones with Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield. The older ones with Kirsten Dunst." 

Too many unfamiliar names are coming at me, but, "Yeah, okay the little guy with the upside down kiss. I know who you're talking about."

"Right. And let's see who else you would know." She taps her chin with her long red fingernail as she thinks. "Jen is supposed to be hosting...Jennifer Anniston."

"...from 'Friends'." I nod; finally somebody whose name I recognize.

Gwen turns and smiles at me, then."Yeah, and I think Katy Perry is too. I know you like her because she's got big..." Her hands leave the wheel to cup imaginary melons in the air.

"...eyes. Yeah, big round eyes. Very nice eyes." Hell, I may not be very smart, but momma didn't raise no fool.

She howls with laughter from her seat, noting my intentional diversionary tactic. "Well, call them what you want, but where I'm from they're called boobs."

"Katy Perry's boobs?" I'm just going to ride this one 'til the wheels fall off. "Huh, that's funny; I never noticed her boobs before." Nope, never noticed those great big plump...

"I hope she puts those bad boys away tonight." Her cherry red mouth turns in a slight frown. "I can't compete with that." 

That's what snatches me back from my unintentional daydream. "You don't have to, honey. You're perfect for me exactly as you are." What throws me off is that she thinks she has to.

"Oh my god, Blake, I'm just going to eat you up." Her hand strokes my cheek through the scruff of my beard and again I marvel at what an asshole her ex must have been. I know firsthand how being cheated on can play games with your self-image, but I'm a dude and I didn't let that shit sit with me for too long. She's a woman, and an emotional, sensitive one, at that. I wonder how long it takes for something like that to heal for her.

Turning my head, I kiss the palm of her hand. "Sounds good to me; when do we get started?"

 

 

I manage pretty well at this semi-fancy event. Everyone is nice enough, and all of Gwen's friends take turns coming over to gush about how tall I am and how cute my dimples are. I don't mind the attention, honestly, and I can sense that Gwen is proud to be here with me, and that makes me happier than a tornado in a trailer park. Every now and then, I catch myself looking in her direction, and she'll glance up from her conversation and blow me away with a smile. Since I'm just the plus one for this shindig, I play my role and let her circulate and take pictures and hang out with her girlfriends. Actually, I end up in a good conversation with Peter Parker and his father-in-law, who happens to be the vice-chairman of NBC television. It sure as hell makes up for this bullcrap they're passing around for food.

"You ready to get out of here?" A few hours in, Gwen comes up from behind and speaks into my ear, her voice soft and low. It's almost 9:30 and things haven't even started to wind down yet, but I'm ready, when she's ready.

We say our goodbyes and leave out towards her car, hand in hand. "You know, you're like the perfect height."

"Am I?" She looks up at me with amusement tugging at her lips.

"Yes, you are. When you wear heels, you're actually pretty tall. Tall enough so I don't have to bend over too much. And when you're wearing flats, you're small enough for me to feel big and manly, without being so short that I have to break my back."

She squeezes my fingers, playfully. "I can see that you've, like, put a lot of thought into this, cowboy."

"Yeah, I have, actually." I pull my face into something that can pass for being defensive. "Is there some kind of problem with that?" 

"No problem over here," she replies, laughing up at me. She just gets my off the wall humor without getting all fussy and butt-hurt over everything: girl of my dreams. "Hey, it's kind of early. I want to take you somewhere."

The night is young, and since she's driving... "Okay, let's go."

 

We drive 15 minutes into Santa Monica, right near the pier and across the street from the ocean. I've never been down here and it's a beautiful area, as we get out of the car and take a short walk. There's this huge new park with art sculptures and water features and play areas for kids, and now with it being dark outside, it's quiet and pretty deserted.

Walking past a rock climbing wall, Gwen tugs on my arm, saying, "Come on this way, I wanna show you my favorite spot."

We stop walking at a reflecting pond right next to a dimly lit picnic area. There are long steps leading down to the big pool of water and we sit down at the top, my long legs brushing against hers as I stretch them out in front of me. I can tell she's got something on her mind, so I sit quietly, playing with her hand in mine while I wait.

"I used to drive down here all the time when the boys would be in school. Just me and Apollo, or sometimes I'd leave him at home and come by myself." I look straight ahead, listening intently to her while staring at the shimmer of the lights on the water down in front of us. "I was trying to keep everything together, when all I wanted to do was fall apart, and I'd leave my house and just drive down here to think and pray and try to find some peace. There were _so_ many crazy things that went down during my marriage, but like, this year alone, everything went so insane. So much bad shit, you know what I mean? I can't believe that I'm still here, sometimes, that I'm in my right mind."

I turn my head to look at her, but her face is pointed away, looking at the moon glowing off in the distance. "I just did this radio interview, and they asked me about everything, of course, and I was just like, 'I wish it didn't happen. I wish my family wasn't split up'. You know, that's not what you envision the rest of your life to be like when you walk down the aisle, right?" She turns her head back to meet my eyes, dropping my hand in favor of reaching out and stroking my chin with the back of her hand.

"But at the same time, I get this second chance with you, which is even more crazy because it's so unexpected, you know? I mean, look at me, like, I can't get enough of you." Her eyes shimmer as tears begin to collect there and my body tenses; I don't know yet if they're happy tears or sad ones. "And then on top of that, the show and the new songs: I mean for once, everything is going so right and I'm so fucking happy. I'm like beyond happy, at this point." Happy tears, I can handle.

With a soft kiss to her forehead, and then to her sweet red mouth, my hand moves to cup the back of her neck, and I speak for the first time since we've gotten here. "And you deserve to be beyond happy for the rest of your life. You just let me know what I can do to make sure of that."

Her chin trembles a bit from holding back unshed tears as she meets my eyes, answering: "Don't leave. Don't change."

"Darlin', I wouldn't dream of it." Whatever she needs, for the rest of her life.

Her fingers ease into my hair, scraping gently against my scalp as she pulls me to her for a kiss. I swear, her lips are the softest pillows against mine, and that, combined with the soft moan that escapes her mouth, are almost my undoing. I taste tears on her lips and even though I know they're from a happy place, they make my heart skip a momentary beat. I put an _I love you_ into every kiss, every touch of my hands on her fully-dressed body. That will have to do for now, since there's no way we can get close enough here to do everything that I want to do to her.

I smooth a hand down her tear-stained cheek, my tone soft but gruff, betraying my mood. "Baby girl, let's go. I need to be alone with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping it real HotlineBling!
> 
> Big hugs to everyone who reads and comments. Thank you so much!
> 
> #makemelikeyou February 11th, fingers crossed!!


	24. Now That I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the days leading up to her American Music Awards performance, will Gwen and Blake be able to spend any time together? And what impact do the words of Gwen's song have on her after she gets off stage?

I drive back to Blake's house, holding onto his hand the whole way. This connection that we have goes way beyond the physical, but his fingers feel so strong and electric against mine that I don't want to let go. We don't really say much to each other, just listen to Delilah's radio show playing quietly in the background, as she answers emails and picks out songs to dedicate to long-distance lovers and grateful family members. It's a pretty quick ride on I-10 tonight, and we slip along through the dark. Occasionally, Blake looks over at me, blue eyes shining under the passing street lamps, and I can't help but turn to him with a soft smile. 

The idea of second chances has been rolling around in my subconscious for a while now, but lately it's been at the forefront. In the midst of the most horrible year of my life, there is so much beauty and joy that would have never appeared, otherwise. Not only does my divorce give me a second chance at a solo career, something that I didn't even realize I really wanted, but it gives me a second chance at loving and being loved. How amazing is that? I'm not going to miss out on anything this time around.

In front of his house, I park the car and don't even hesitate to get out. I have no second thoughts about where I should be or what I should be doing. It's late now, and it'll still be late whenever I leave here. The kids are already asleep and everyone knew I'd be out late tonight, anyway; there's something that Blake and I've gotten started, that needs to be finished.

Key in the door, open and shut again, lock, lock, and then I'm on him. He easily picks me up and my legs lock around his waist, as he kisses me crazy. Carefully, he carries me to his bedroom, my fingers running rampant in his silky curly hair. I'm in a controlled fall as he lowers me to his bed, somehow my jacket coming off in the process. Vaguely, I register its sound as it drops to the floor. My back hits his mattress and my fingers fly into action; I unbutton my top, shrugging out of it, before I work on his plaid flannel. His hands reach around to unfasten my bra and in the next moment, I've crushed him to me, the contrast of our bodies as they touch igniting even more desire in me.

Lips adorn my neck with kisses and it's the most erotic feeling. His hands slide down to my waist, fingers unintentionally tickling my belly as he struggles at his attempts to unbuckle my belt. After a few minutes, both it and my jeans are loosened and Blake abandons my neck, in favor of my stomach. He pulls everything down and off, including my booties, leaving me naked underneath him.

He kisses his way back up my body, and once he reaches my mouth, I push back on his shoulder to reverse our positions, with me on top and him on the bed below me. I sit straddled across his waist, my wetness staining his stomach as my hands reach behind me to release him from his now confining jeans. I'm feeling powerful on top of him, my breasts pushed forward into his hands. Unzipping his pants carefully, I reach inside his underwear and stroke his hard length. He lengthens even more in my hand, and I can't wait to feel him grow even harder in my mouth. 

"You first," he insists. His hands encircle my waist, pulling me up his body from near his hips to his mouth, where he sits me directly. This is a new position for me, creating a new heart-stopping sensation in me, and I fall forward, my arms reaching out to steady me against the wall above the headboard. His mouth opens to cover me there completely, his tongue snaking out to explore every inch between my legs. 

He wastes no time with formalities; hands on my ass guide me in a gentle rocking motion and his tongue flicks back and forth against my clit until I'm shaking and clutching the headboard to maintain my composure. My head falls back as his tongue continues it's lapping of my moisture, and I can't take it anymore. In record time I come, hard and in such a rush, and I scream out in pleasure. Barely giving me time to catch my breath, his lips surround my now even more sensitive nub. He applies the same motion he uses when sucking on my nipple, except it's slower, softer, and more deliberate. I begin to circle my hips in counter to his action and his hands move there, his fingers dancing on my hot skin all the while.

This is by far the best thing I've ever felt, and how good it feels all depends on how I move my body. I speed my hips up, and then slow it down, torturing myself in the process. But it's a delicious, intoxicating feeling and my mouth opens, allowing some strange cross between Blake's name and a moan to escape. After a few minutes, I feel goosebumps start creeping up my legs, but I feel my face beginning to tingle, as well. My smooth circular movements become a bit less fluid, as my legs shake and my body trembles in expectation. I let go of the headboard with one hand, seeking out another source of connection to the cowboy whose face I'm currently riding. Sliding my fingers into his thick curls, they clench against his scalp. I hope I'm not smothering him, but it's too late to care as I get ready to come again.

Nothing remotely coherent comes out of my mouth and it seems like I ride the waves of my orgasm for the longest time before my knees give out and I come crashing down. His hands hold me, placing me by his side as I recover, and he cuddles me into him closely, kissing the gasps away as my body experiences a few aftershocks.

I laugh aloud as my racing heart slows. "Oh my god, I'm so not quiet."

"No, you're right, not quiet at all." His hands roam over my skin, smoothing down the shivers that remain as dots across my body. "But you being loud is fuckin' sexy, so don't get all shy on me now."

"I don't think I could be quiet if I even wanted to, actually. Blake, you're so good with your mouth; I just want more." My hand cups his cheek as I talk. I can't believe I'm being so forward; it feels so sexy and the aroused look on his face makes it all worth it. "Can I get more?" 

Because his lips have just become engaged with mine, he nods his head yes in response. _But not now,_ I think, _maybe later_. In the meantime, my hand reaches into his pants again, finding him thicker and longer than before. "Your dick is so hard, but your skin is so soft. Like, how's that even possible?" I whisper against his lips.

He groans now in response to my uncharacteristically naughty words. "Shit, are you talkin' dirty to me?"

"Maybe, yeah." Rising to my knees, I pull on his pants and underwear. "But I won't be for long though; my mouth is about to be full." I smile at him before leaning down and taking his erection between my lips. 

 

"Did you decide what you're gonna do about the awards show?"

I'm sure it's about midnight, if not later, and and I'm still lying in Blake's bed, clothes on the floor, while his hand aimlessly wanders over my body, starting at my thigh, then over my hips, and now traces some pattern on my stomach. His head is resting on his fist as he's propped up, looking down at me. 

"What I'll probably do is go, take some pictures and then perform and leave. I don't know yet how far into the show I'm going to be on, but since you're not coming with me, I'm just going to go home early so I can get my kids to bed. Maybe it'll make up for me not being there tonight." There's really no reason at all for me to stick around once I'm done singing.

We had already decided that Blake wouldn't come with me to the American Music Awards. He wasn't nominated for anything, and although he had wanted to go when the seating chart revealed I'd be sitting next to his buddy Luke Bryan, we decided that his presence there with me would be too much this early in our relationship. 

"You feelin' guilty not being with them tonight?" He rolls over onto his back, pulling me - half on his body, half on the bed - with him. So comfortable now, I snuggle into his wide and warm body, and my hand grazes through the hair on his cheek, out of habit.

"No." A mocking laugh leaves my lips and I meet his eyes to let him know that I'm sincere. "I feel guilty that I don't ever want to leave you and this bed, though." 

Kissing the top of my head he laughs. "Cool, I could use a roommate. Come split some of these bills with me." 

Haha, that's a funny one. "I know how much money you make just on "The Voice" alone cowboy, so uh, no dice."

His hand pulls mine off of his cheek, interlacing our fingers together. He brings the pair up to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of my knuckles. "Well, f.y.i., I'm headed back up to the ranch on Friday; just an overnight trip this time. And Adam and I are gonna try to hang out and do somethin' tomorrow before I leave." Blake always tells me what he has going on and where he's going to be. I'm never left in the dark regarding him, and that knowledge makes me feel so good and so secure. I'd gotten used to wondering and texting and calling and getting no reply over the last two decades, so Blake's approach is super refreshing, by comparison. 

"Oh, is that why I had to leave out before I was done with you this afternoon?" I was so annoyed with Adam, but I know I've been hogging all of Blake's free time, so I tried not to whine too much about it.

"Pretty much. He misses me, y'know...what can I say?" One of his giant-sized hands covers one of my ass cheeks, hugging me closer to his body. Wow, it's so crazy how I can go from lukewarm to sizzling, just like _that._

My right leg bends and rises up his body, so that my knee lays below his below button and my foot falls to the bed on the other side of his body. Lying here without clothes on, I'm pretty much easy access right now. "You're a popular guy." My voice is nothing more than a breath.

"It would seem so, I guess. It's probably because I'm talented; I can do things like _this_." His fingers open me up, and I'm so wet all over again, that one slides right on inside of me, making me gasp and my eyelids flutter closed. Blake lowers his voice to a whisper in my ear. "Truth be told, I can't get enough of you either." He uses the same words I used earlier at Tongva Park.

His arms pull me up a fraction closer to his mouth, which I eagerly latch onto. Long fingers play so gently, both inside and out, stroking me back to another orgasm, that hits me right in the middle of a kiss. My body has never felt more satisfied.

And I've never felt so loved.

 

Thursday and Friday pass in a blur of activity for me. "Used to Love You" is doing better than even I expected, and I've got radio interviews to do both days. I'm also still in the studio, still channeling all these wonderful songs with my Breakfast Club cohorts, and writing one or two songs everyday. Like, _really_ good songs. I've never had a writing streak last this long or be this prolific. I'm loving being in the studio everyday, I love the _smell_ of the studio; it's one of my favorite things to look forward to. That is, other than talking to Blake Shelton.

Like he warned me, his whole day Thursday is spent with Adam. Blake and I FaceTimed while I was still in bed this morning, hair all over my head, grumpy about not wanting to get up yet. I'm sure I looked a hot mess, but I couldn't tell from his response - he looked at me with the same sweet expression in his eyes that he always does.

I have a 6pm fitting at my house for my red carpet outfit, along with the dress for my performance on the AMAs Sunday. I've never been the 'look at me, I'm so sexy' type, but I don't know, something's gotten into me lately and I'm feeling it more strongly than ever. I chose a daring one piece black peplum bodysuit to wear underneath a wide-sleeve sheer floor-length tunic for the red carpet, and Danilo is raving about a Priscilla Presley meets Elvira type hairstyle. After a struggle, I picked a wedding-gown white Marchesa dress for the performance, that's absolutely beautiful. "I've got two words for the hair that's gonna go with that gorgeous dress, love. Curly. Angel." Danilo remarks.

Before I can take off the white dress and hang it back up for Mariel to take and tailor, it's Blake calling on FaceTime again.

"Heeeeey!" Better yet, it's Blake and Adam on FaceTime, and their voices are in chorus. 

"Hey sweetheart, what's that you're wearing? Are you in the bubble bath again?" I move the phone closer to my face to limit the amount of the dress that they can see. It's so beautiful that I can't wait until my makeup and hair are all coordinated, then, I can blow him away with the whole package.

"No, I'm just trying on my dresses for the American Music Awards." In the background I hear Adam's surprised voice remarking, 'you guys FaceTime while she's taking a bubble bath?'

"Shut your face, Adam." Blake turns back to me excitedly, like a little boy waiting to unwrap a present. "Let me see it, can I see it?"

"Nope," I laugh at the eagerness in his voice. He is so cute. "You'll have to watch the show Sunday if you want to see it."

"Man, she shut you down to your _face_!" Adam's finger points dangerously close to Blake's nose. "Take _that_! Are you even sure she's your girlfriend at this point? 'Cause like honestly..."

"Swear to God Adam, I am _thisclose_ to flushing your head down a toilet, somewhere."  
Their brotherly bickering always makes me laugh, and this is no exception. I let them carry on for a minute, and when I've got tears threatening to spill, I interrupt.

"Stop it! You guys are killing me." I give my face a mini-massage, hoping to lessen my chances of developing a headache later on. "Where are you now, anyway?"

Adam's face takes up the entire screen and he starts taunting me with a sing-song chant. "Chilling at your _boyfriend's_ place, and you can't come, nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!" Did he just stick his tongue out at me? I think he just stuck his tongue out at me!

"Hey buddy, watch yourself there, now." The cowboy snatches his phone from Adam's grasp and turns it on himself, looking at me before glancing over at his friend, and then back at me once more. "We just got back from four-wheelin' honey, and Gwen can come over whenever she wants, and she knows it, dontchu Gwen?"

I start to answer in the affirmative, but now Blake is scowling at Adam, and they're slinging arrows of insults at each other again, left and right.

"Yeah, and that's cool bro, and I understand all that, but tonight it's dicks over chicks!" Adam looks totally sure of himself as he makes that statement, complete with hand gestures and everything.

"Now wait a fuckin' minute, man." Blake narrows his eyes in confusion or disbelief; I don't know which. "That sounds like some cheesy gay porn movie, 'Dicks Over Chicks'. What the fuck you think we got goin' on over here tonight?"

Adam, in turn, throws his hands up and bugs his eyes out, playing innocent. "What, you mean the candlelight and violin music playing softly in the background isn't for me? What the fuck man! I've got a box of Trojans in my pocket and everything!" He folds his arms in disgust and Blake turns back to me, shaking his head and pointing at Adam as if to say 'can you believe this dude?'

This time the tears do come, and I'm laughing so hard at their continuing banter that a pin pops loose from where Mariel, my stylist, has placed it, and sticks me in the side.

"You two put on such a show for me and I love you both." They are so awesome separately and even more so together, and I love the friendship and brotherhood that they have.

"We love you too, don't we Blake?" Adam elbows Blake somewhere and Blake gives it right back to Adam. Only harder, based on the expression on Adam's face.

"Of course we do. Look, Gwen, call me later on tonight before you go to bed or somethin'. I've missed your beautiful face today." His eyes lock with mine and despite Adam's presence, I see only Blake - sweet smile, blue eyes, sexy dimples - and a huge grin cracks wide open on my face.

Popping his head in front of Blake again, Adam deadpans: "Don't feel too special Gwen; he literally tells me that all the time."

"You know what Adam...?"

I laugh again, my face and head aching after ten minutes on the phone with them. I wave goodbye, blowing Blake a kiss, and as I'm hanging up I hear Adam:

"So dude, can we still watch some porn?"

 

Last minute shenanigans at the run-through yesterday forced me to change my performance outfit from the Marchesa dress, to something else that seemed more funeral-ready than the white gown I had previously picked out. That's okay; I'll just wear the heavenly gown when I perform on "The Voice" next week. I'll still get the chance to blow Blake away, and this time, it'll be in person. 

Danilo is right. I look like a sexy, vampy Priscilla Presley - or as I like to think of it, a throwback to the Barbra Streisand of the 1970s - on the red carpet. I take no interviews, only pose for a few pictures and head backstage to compose myself. 

It's been a stressful few days actually; my headache of an ex-husband has been giving me grief over what's already been specified and laid out for our holiday custody arrangements, and my pain-killer of a boyfriend was out of town, and while not unreachable by phone, it's definitely not as awesome as having him here would have been. He did surprise me earlier today by dropping by my house, right after he had FaceTimed me, asking where I was and saying he was in L.A. and going to pick up some food for himself. Imagine my shock when he showed up at my door. His warm hug and loving kiss did so much to calm me down and help me refocus before I left for the awards show. Plus it was just awesome to be with him, even for that short time. God, he's sweet.

I'm backstage before my performance and I'm literally shaking. I don't know if it's because I haven't been on this stage performing in almost a decade, or because of the song's material, or because I'm a wreck from my recent conversation with my ex, but I'm super excited to be here and super nervous, all in one. I stand on stage and sing my heart out, so many awful memories replaying as I'm doing so. I feel naked and exposed as the emotions run through me, live, on national television. Yes, the hurt is still so raw and the feelings still intense, but not even as bad as they were a few weeks ago when I sang it on Ellen's show. Each time I sing these truthful words aloud, they heal me.

And then as I'm walking offstage, it totally hits me: I hadn't really loved my ex in a long, long time. I was loyal, I was blind. I accepted my life. I chose to remain married in spite of _everything_ I knew, let alone the things I suspected, but didn't have proof of. But as far as _love_ goes? I think the love I had for him died some years back. How many lies, how many secrets can a heart absorb and still be whole? And how can a heart that's been shattered experience anything remotely as intense as love? It can't, and so the words "I used to love you" take on a whole new meaning. I used to love him, with my whole heart, but that was so long ago: so many years, so many betrayals ago. It's been a long time since the last time I loved Gavin.

The realization both makes my heart heavy, and makes my heart soar, and so I do what comes naturally to me; I get off stage, hand off my microphone and earpieces, lock my dressing room door, and cry like a baby for the better part of ten minutes. I pride myself on being such an honest person and so it's definitely a shock for me to realize that I'd been lying to myself, I suppose as a coping strategy, for so long. It also explains how Blake has been able to creep into my heart from the moment we first met last year. That space had been unoccupied for so long, and the cowboy, with all his teasing and all his smiles, just moved right on in. The hot cowboy...

My phone's text notification light is flashing at me out of the corner of my eye, and before I even grab a tissue or splash cold water on my face, I reach for it, hoping to see a message from him.

**You're amazing, do you even understand that? Do you know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me? Like, literally.**

I laugh out loud as a fresh batch of tears begin to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, staying on schedule, 24 chapters into this - the Virgo in me won't let me do otherwise. Fingers crossed for next week, when I'm traveling cross country. 
> 
> What would I do without you guys and your lovely comments? Thank you for being so sweet.
> 
> HotlineBling, I hope you never get tired of being my guinea pig.
> 
> Shefani forever!


	25. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving separates Gwen and Blake, but they unite in L.A. better than ever. As Gwen prepares to sing "Used to Love You" on The Voice, what decision will Blake come to?

"...so, then she said that _you_ said that we were singing a duet on my album."

We're talking about a pre-show interview on Monday where we were asked about working on music together. 

"I never said that. She asked if we'd _recorded_ a song together, and I said that I'd neither confirm nor deny it. So what did you tell her?" I looked at the charge on my phone and it was at 78%, so I plugged it into the wall in the kitchen, After the last time I was in Oklahoma and experienced issues with my charger, I bought like ten of them sons of bitches, and always kept one within arms reach. Being away from L.A. and Gwen was a necessity sometimes, and so then were our FaceTime calls. I can't let a dead battery keep me away from seeing her.

"'No comment.' But I couldn't remember how the phrase went, so like, Adam helped me out. I swear, my brain..." She hits her forehead with the palm of her hand, like she's trying to get a non-functioning machine to start running again.

"Now, next time I see you, I'm gonna hafta kiss you right there on your head to make up for all that abuse you're givin' it right now." Like I need an excuse to wanna kiss her.

"And when exactly will that be? You know I miss you so much when you're not here." That's music to my country ears. 

I left for Tish Wednesday afternoon. Gwen picked me up from my house and dropped me off at the airport, and as we were hugging, she actually cried while we were saying goodbye. It broke my heart to let out of my arms to begin with, but seeing those tears stream down her cheeks twisted something deep inside my gut. From this point on, I don't ever want to be the cause of her crying anything but happy tears. 

"Well, early tomorrow I'm going fishing with my buddy and his wife before the weather gets too cold for it, and then Saturday, I've got to chop some more firewood up and get things stocked up settled real good. It'll be a while before I can come back again."

"Chopping firewood, huh?" She lowered her eyebrows, turning her head to the side as she thought about that. "I just got this like, real sexy image in my head."

"Listen, you should come back here with me after the finale. I don't know what your schedule looks like or what you got goin' on with the boys and their dad, but, I'd love for you to come back to spend some time in Oklahoma with me. I promise to chop some firewood for ya, real sexy like."

Gwen's eyes sparkle at the invitation, and she claps her hands excitedly, like a little kid. Her feelings are always right there, available at the surface, and I enjoy that so much about her. I've never been with someone so in tune with their emotions as Gwen. The only emotions Miranda ever seemed to tap into were anger, vengefulness or nostalgia. "The boys are with their dad during vacation, except on Christmas Day, so yeah, I'd love to come back to the ranch with you, as long as I'm home on like, the 24th."

"I'm sure we can manage that." This is gonna be an amazing Christmas season for me, based off of this alone. Now, I've gotta figure out what to get her, and how to make the time were gonna have together even more special. But in the meantime, "Wanna see how my turkey came out?"

"Um..." The abrupt change of subject throws her for a loop. "Is that like a trick question, or...?" She chuckles.

She's got such a dirty mind; I happily take credit for bringing that out of her. "No, not at all. I have this grill/smoker combo thing, right? So I put the turkey on there last night, and I told you before we hung up that I was going to take it off the smoker right then, remember that?"

"Yeah, you did." Her hands brush back a wayward yellow curl from her face as she leans down on her bathroom counter, interested in my answer. "So what happened?"

"Well, I woke up this morning to go pee off of my front porch..."

Laughter trickles out of her mouth. "Oh my god, stop it!"

"...and there it was, still cracklin' and sizzlin'. Can you believe this? I accidentally left it on overnight. I forgot all about it after you sent me that picture of you in bed."

Even though we'd been on FaceTime for over an hour, I'd asked Gwen to send me a selfie before she went to bed, like I always do; within a minute or so, she had. She was tangled in her white bed sheets, her head cushioned by a plump pillow, brown eyes big and nude lips slightly parted, as she stared into the camera and made my heart seize up in my chest. She'd captioned it with "hurry back to me gxoxo". I think I must've stared at that picture for a couple of minutes before I could use my big head again, and type out some kind of message that made sense. That turkey was long forgotten by the time I'd done that.

"So, it's like, my fault you burned up your turkey, right?" Gwen points to herself, smirking at me because she already knows how hot that picture was. 

"No, actually I guess I have you to thank, because that was the best tasting bird I've ever had in my life." That thing was smoked to perfection: skin crispy, meat moist and flavorful, when I sliced into it this morning to make sure it was okay to serve.

"Nice save, cowboy." Juicy red lips blow an air kiss my way, and I swear this is the last time I go for more than three days without having her around. "What kind of smoker do you have? My dad was talking about wanting one of those."

Oh really, now? Her parents had been at the show on Tuesday, and I'd gotten my first chance at meeting them. Of course I wanted to impress them - and I really think I did - but I'm always open to finding out how to make an even better impression. This is some key information she's proving me with here. "Oh, some ol' thing I've had for years now. Still works like a charm, though." Just a little white lie, for the moment. "But yeah, thanks for being such a beautiful distraction."

"However I can help." She still colors when I compliment her, her cheeks turning pink and her shoulders rising up to cover her face, but it's the cutest thing, and I enjoy it. "I mean that's the closest I'll ever come to cooking a turkey so 'yay me!'. Matter of fact..." She smiles and holds up a finger as she walks through her house, ending up at her kitchen. "This is the closest to a turkey that I get."

She opens the freezer and pulls out a box to show me; it's an ice cream cake shaped like a turkey from that 31 Flavors place. "I bet the kids all love that." Man, I need me one of those!

"They do." She turns and puts the cake back in the freezer. "Hey. Zuma wanted to know if you were going to Disneyland with us tomorrow. He was so disappointed when I told him you wouldn't be back in L.A. in time."

Kingston is cautiously friendly, and Apollo loves everyone, but Zuma? Zuma is my rambunctious little buddy. "There's always next time. Tell him next time he wants to go, that I will be there."

Speaking of the devil, he runs past Gwen's iPhone, then backs up and smiles when he realizes it's me, before jetting off again. "I'll tell him you said that. Maybe we can FaceTime you from there tomorrow?"

A huge dimple-flashing grin eats up my face. Even when I can't be _with_ them, I'm still with them. And it's such a great feeling that she wants me to share these experiences with me, even long-distance. "I'd love that."

"Okay," Gwen blows me a kiss. "I gotta get the boys wrangled and in the car. I don't want to always be the last one getting to my parent's house."

"Alright sweetheart, I'll talk to you later. Happy Thankgiving." I could truthfully sit on the phone with her for hours, but we've both got other things to do. One day, we'll be doing those things together. 

She waves and smiles; she honestly looks so happy and I hope she sees the same written on my face, as well. "Happy Thanksgiving to you too."

A minute later, my phone notifies me of a new text. It's a selfie from Gwen, her lips twisted, her eyes looking up and off to the side as her hand cups her chin - she looks like she's thinking about something. The picture is captioned, "do you even know how thankful I am for you?"

Man, life is so crazy sometimes, and as I'm finding out, it's exactly right.

 

Gwen comes to pick me up from the airport Sunday afternoon. She's got this sheer black and white polka dot blouse on under her coat, that makes me want to run my hands all over her body. I tell her exactly that about two seconds before King and Zuma race around from the car to give me a hug. I can't really be mad at the little cock-blockers after that, and it's a great way to be welcomed back by them. 

I hold Gwen's hand as we take the short walk back to the car where Apollo is asleep in his car seat. We've been working our way up to being more affectionate in front of the boys, and this hand-holding is kind of a big deal. The boys either don't care, or don't notice, as they ramble on about Disneyland, and look amazed at the fact that I've never been there.

"Mom, can Blake come with us next time?" Kingston walks backwards as he address her.

"What if he's too big for the rides?" Zuma looks very concerned about this possibility as he sizes me up.

"No he's not! Blake, can you ride Space Mountain with me?" Tapping the arm of my free hand, Gwen's oldest surprises me by asking this. Maybe he's moved from 'cautiously friendly' to just plain 'friendly'.

"Maybe we can go there again next week?" The younger boy adds to the bombardment of questions coming Gwen's way.

She takes it all in stride, laughingly replying, "Boys, calm down. We won't be going back next week..."

"...yeah, but next time you go, I wanna go too." I pick up the thread from her as we lock eyes. "And I'll ride whatever you want. You guys gotta show me the cool stuff, since I've never been there before."

The brothers run ahead to the car, excitedly making plans and discussing who will ride with me on which attraction. I didn't expect them to accept me so easily, and although I'm sure there'll be some rough patches eventually, I'm glad that thus far, the road to their approval has been smooth and pretty painless.

Gwen latches onto my arm with her free hand, squeezing it with a little excited yelp. "They like you so much, baby."

"Yeah? The feeling is mutual. I like them so much." _And I love you._ I let those words go unspoken for now, but I don't think I can bite my tongue that much longer. The countdown to confession has begun.

"I was going to leave them at home and just come pick you up myself; I figured they wouldn't want to come, but they were all like, "Mom, we want to go see Blake too!", so I was just like, 'let's go!'" She changes her voice when she tells me what they said, making them sound like little surfer dudes. Her hands fly up to emphasize her words, too, and the combined effect is so animated and funny.

That knowledge makes my heart swell inside of me. "So how do you feel about that?"

"It's such a relief, you know what I mean? I want them to love you like I do, and for them to be comfortable with you and like, want to know you more. And it's all working out so far, like, it's just crazy, y'know?" 

_'Love you like I do.'_ My ears catch that phrase and my heart begins to race faster than a hooker at a Sunday church service. Was that more than just a slip of her tongue?

"I can't wait for them to come to the ranch. Think they'll like that?" My eyes trail over to where the boys are, climbing into the SUV. 

"They're going to love it." There goes that word again. 

We make it to the car and as promised on Thanksgiving, I pull Gwen close, my fingers sliding against her scalp as I kiss her forehead. The wind sweeps her hair across her face as I do so, brushing against my lips. "I'm gonna love it, too."

 

"Give me one minute; I'll be right out." 

I'd been running around with Zach Seabaugh, getting some last minute song arrangement modifications taken care of with the band, while Gwen was getting her hair and makeup done. By the time I make it back to her trailer, she's locked herself in the bathroom with Mariel, her stylist. She wants me to see her outfit for her performance of "Used to Love You" tonight, and I sit down to wait as she's speaking through the closed door, while she gets dressed.

"This is the one I was supposed to wear on the AMAs, but then like, the set director couldn't figure it out with the light people because of the size of the stage and the material of the dress or whatever, and so we just decided to go with black. But now...." she opens the door and she steps out after Mariel, "I finally get my chance."

I stand up, slowly taking her all in. Yes, I'm physically able to speak, but I just really don't know what to say at this point. Nothing I'm thinking is too coherent and my emotions have taken over. She literally looks like she just walked out of heaven.

"I've got to make a phone call," Mariel winks at me as she excuses herself. "I'll be back in a few."

"So," throwing her arms out and twirling around, Gwen's face beams as she models this delicate white dress for me. "I wanted you to see it when I had my hair and makeup done, so you could get the full effect. Do you like it?" She drops her arms and eventually her smile recedes as she notices the expression on my face, and that I'm standing in front of her, speechless. 

"Blake?" She's starting to look concerned, and I can't have that.

Taking two steps forward, I lift her chin so our eyes meet. I don't want to mess her up: touch the wrong thing and have her beautiful dress fall apart, or kiss the wrong place and ruin her gorgeous hair or makeup, so I just look in her deep brown eyes, hoping my message finds its way through to her. 

And she looks stunning. Her blonde hair is in loose curls pulled back from the smooth skin of her face. She's got on makeup, I'm pretty sure, but it looks so natural that I don't even know where it's been applied, except for her lips, which shine with a pinkish-beige kind of gloss. And I want nothing more than to kiss them, to sample her sweetness and to give her a taste of how much I feel for her. But she looks so beautiful, and as I stare at her amazed, I have to remind myself to breathe. It's just that I'm afraid to do anything that would change the intensity of this moment. 

"Blake." My eyes have traveled around her face before settling on her mouth, when she calls my name in a hushed tone. The moment tears begin to clog up her voice, I hear it, and I watch as they pool, leaving her eyes shimmering. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Looking at you like what, princess?" Like she's an angel? Like she's flawless? Like I want to make love to her until she forgets any other man but me? There are so many ways to fill in that particular blank.

"Like..." She falters, blinking her eyes rapidly against the tears that threaten to tumble down her pretty face.

"Looking at you like I love you?" This is not how I wanted to tell her, not when or where, but what else can I do?

Just then, her FaceTime ringtone starts up, interrupting whatever it was that I was ready to say. I don't know whether to be frustrated or relieved, but I've got no chance to think about it, as Gwen answers the phone with Kingston and Apollo on the other end. Sitting down on the couch, I drag her carefully onto my lap, my arms circling her waist. I'm still nervous about the tissue paper-thin material of the gown, but I'm feeling all sorts of other emotions that trump my nerves, now. 

My fingers trail down the the straps that line her back, and I layer kisses along the pale flesh exposed in between them. She's not missing a beat in her conversation with the boys, holding the phone in my direction so I can wave hello to them, but I know she's still as affected by the last few minutes as I am. Her left hand lays across my left, which is currently on top of her stomach, and she wiggles her fingers in between the tight spaces, entangling them with mine. Squeezing her hand once it's secure in my hold, I breathe her in. She smells like flowers and sunshine and my future, and eyes closing, I place a single kiss in the middle of her back.

"Five minutes to call time, Ms. Stefani!" A knock bangs on the door, a harsh return to reality from the haze we've settled in.

Gwen says goodbye to the boys, then so do I, before we disconnect. Tonight starts with the recording of her performance, and then Adam's, leaving Pharrell and I alone to do media interviews. She's off to join Adam in getting staged before the show begins, and I need to go find Pharrell, before we head over to watch their performances in half an hour or so.

Still on my lap, she's turned towards me. I keep it simple. "You ready?" 

The question hangs heavy between us, the words ripe for interpretation: ready to perform, ready to start the show...ready to accept the profession of feelings I've been holding onto for way too long now?

Her answer is just as straightforward, just as full of complexity. "If you are." 

We stand, taking each other's hand as we head out the door.

 

Her performance is nothing short of raw and incredible. I know she's nervous; she told me she's always nervous when she performs on TV, but I don't see any evidence of that. All I see is emotion seeping out of every note she sings, out of every movement and facial expression. It's like she's reliving the days and months, hell even the years before she wrote "Used To Love You". I can see the hurt line her face, hear the anger and betrayal in her voice. It pisses me the fuck off all over again to know what she went through because of her ex-husband. At the same time, it pleases the fuck out of me to know that she'll never have to go through any of that, ever again. 

The song ends and she's standing there, the lighting and the flowered trees making her look magical on stage. Everyone is going crazy with applause and I instantly stand on my feet. I'm so fucking proud of her and I don't give a damn who knows it. She scans over the audience - I know her brother and sister-in-law are here tonight - but then her eyes skip over and find me, and I just about want to run up on stage and grab her. To me, that look just served to reassure her of my support and approval of her, and with me giving such a genuine standing ovation, I hope she feels all the positivity that I have to give her. Ah, at the very end, I see the corner of her mouth tilt up. That's some new-found confidence making its rounds. I love seeing that from her. 

In that moment I vow that Gwen will never have a reason to write a "Used to Love You" type song about me. I plan to be the one that inspires her to write only the sweetest love songs, should she choose to do so. That's the kind of man I promise myself to be for her.

She goes backstage to change, and returns to her chair right before the commercial break ends. There's not enough time for me to go over there, so I shoot her a text message:

**You looked like an angel and you killed that performance.**

Fortunately, she picks up her phone right away. She looks down towards me and smiles before she types a reply.

**Thank u!!!! I don't think I'll ever sing that song the same way again**

**What do you mean?**

**Come see me next break xoxo**

When next break comes, I head over to her seat. She's changed into a short black dress that shows off her crossed legs, and I'm all for that. As soon as she sees me approaching, her face lights up, and I'm all for that too.

"You were amazing." Her smile grows even bigger now, and she touches my arm, rubbing it up and down as we stare at each other like two goofy kids.

"That's what I was trying to tell her, man." We break eye contact and turn towards Adam as he comes to stand with us. "And you looked sensational too, Gwen, you really did. You still do."

"Okay Adam, that's enough." I know he's being supportive and of course, completely honest, but I wanted to be the first one to tell her how gorgeous she was on stage. You snooze, you lose, I guess.

He laughs at me, taking obvious pleasure in my momentary disgruntled state. "What? Oh, you're the only one that gets to compliment Gwen now? Whatever, dude."

Gwen interrupts our back and forth. "Hey, we haven't taken any pictures yet. Let's do that." Her hand still makes its way up and down my arm. I don't know if she's doing it to comfort me, or to comfort herself.

Adam pulls out his phone and takes the picture. "Send that to me, Adam." My indirect way of apologizing for being a jackass.

Adam nods. "Will do brother." His indirect acceptance of my apology. "Again, great job, Gwen."

She smiles at his back as he walks away and then turns to me as I speak. "Meet me backstage next commercial, okay?"

By now, she knows what that means. It means that I can't wait any longer to hold her and kiss her, so we go hide out in a small, unoccupied closet of a room that I snooped around to find back in season six, when I was drinking a little too much.

Immediately, her eyes begin to smolder and her teeth nip lightly on her bottom lip, in imitation of what I'm wanting to do to it. "Okay, Blake." 

The fingers that've been running up and down my arm, trail down to my hand now, her nails making their presence known as they lightly scrape against me. Our eyes never wander from each other as we continue to chat. We wait for the fifteen second warning to be announced before we reluctantly return to our seats, until the next commercial break.

Jordan Smith has just wowed everyone with his rendition of Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah", but as we go into commercial, I stand up and follow Gwen, who's moved faster than I have, heading to the back. She turns and waves at some girls screaming her name before we disappear behind the stage, and walk into the semi-dark room we visit regularly on show days. 

There's no lock to secure the room, but it doesn't matter in this moment. I pull her body against me, rotating her around quickly so her back is flush against the wood. I crowd her, one arm resting above her head on the door, and the other holding her at the inward slope of her waist. I've waited long enough to kiss her, and I can't wait any longer.

Her fingers slide into my hair and pull my head down. My lips meet hers, hungry and desperate for the feel of her soft tongue, for the taste of her warm mouth, for the smell of her sweet breath. Our tongues collide, and my body imagines what it would feel like to merge into hers, experiencing a different kind of moist heat. I know making love to this woman would be the best way to spend the rest of my life, but for now, I simply enjoy the thrill I get from these achingly slow, deep kisses.

"We need to get back out there." Despite her words, she slides a hand under my blazer, and over my ribs to pull my body into hers, and we continue to kiss. 

She's right though, and I break away with a sigh, my hand pounding lightly on the door over her head in frustration. "You go ahead; I'm right behind you." I need to collect myself, first.

She wipes a finger across her lips, before dragging it down mine and she slips out the room. With a groaned sigh, I give myself a chance to recover, concentrating on the show ahead, before I leave as well. Not able to help myself, I still make a beeline for her as I come back out front. 

She's seated, so I lean over to address her. "Do you have to hurry home tonight, or do I get to spend some time with you?" I'm praying it's the latter of the two.

Her head does that little tilt, and she sweeps her tongue over her teeth. I notice that her lip gloss has been reapplied with perfection; that just makes me want to smear it with my lips on hers all over again. "I can always make time for us, cowboy."

Such a perfect response from her leaves me with no choice but to smile, in spite of myself.

Gwen leans forward and touches my face, moving as if she wants to kiss me. She pulls up short, though, sighing and suddenly remembering where we are. "Those damn dimples. They do things to me, every time." Lowering her eyes to my lips, she shakes her head. I know how easy it is for us to get lost in each other, and I work to clear my own hazy thoughts. 

"Fifteen seconds and counting!"

Because life is precious and too short. Because I'm at my breaking point and I need her. For these reasons, I decide not to waste another moment holding onto what I feel for her. It's gotta be tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I've been gone too long from this story. 
> 
> First of all, thanks for being patient while I wrote three others. Secondly, I'm pretty sure that I'm gonna wrap this up in time for Gwen's album to come out. Listening to her music is like reading her journal; you won't need me anymore at that point, at least for this story. I will be working overtime to crank out some more chapters before that happens, though. My goal is to finish through the season finale of The Voice, so there will be a definite and natural end to the story. 
> 
> I will continue spinning other tales, however. Thank you for coming along on my imagination's ride. And enjoy the next chapters as they come. I will go back to the old every other day posting schedule - fingers crossed - since Shefani February is officially over. There will be at least 5 and as many as 10 more chapters before TC&TP is completed.
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone who's read and commented, thank you for being patient and bugging me for an update, thank you to HotlineBling for dealing with my mania and thanks to Gwen and Blake for being a romantic fairytale come to life. I think I'm gonna go cry now. Seriously.


	26. This Much Is True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Blake have been skirting the emotional edge for a while now. What would happen if they were to fall off?

It's been a hell of an emotional night for me, starting with performing "Used to Love You" for the first time since my tearful realization at the American Music Awards, and ending with me ready and willing to leap off of some emotional cliff with Blake. We've been building up to this tipping point for some time now, and we're getting close to whatever is approaching. My heart is racing in my chest and my stomach is already tied in knots. Something is definitely in the air tonight.

Earlier in the evening, when I tried that Marchesa gown on for Blake in my trailer, I'd been holding my breath, thinking he was going to tell me that he loved me. We ended up getting interrupted by my boys, of all people, but maybe that was for the best. Performing would probably have been much harder for me if he had said those words beforehand, especially since we've already been riding on this wave of intensity lately. I'm not even sure if that was what was on his mind, but the possibility hasn't given me a moment's peace since. Somehow, the rest of the show had then passed by, with my mind half on my contestants and my mind half on the handsome coach sitting at the last chair to my left. He gives me everything that I need, and so much of what I want, that I can't help but be preoccupied with thoughts of him. Daydreams of us. It's literally driving me to distraction.

We're almost at his house and he's telling me how beautiful he thought I looked in my dress for the performance. Every time he compliments me, I feel my heart beat more strongly inside of my chest.

When he explains his reaction to me, I laugh. "Oh my god, at first I thought there was like, something wrong, like you swallowed your gum or whatever. But then, I think I figured it out." I turn my face to him, suddenly serious and subdued. "You're so sweet to me and I love that so much. Thank you."

"I'm just being honest." He explains it away like it's not a big deal, when to me, it's the biggest. "And your performance was so damn good. It looked like you were really reliving a lot of moments up there on stage."

Pulling up to his house, I park and we head inside. As I slip off my shoes, I tell him about how nervous I was to sing tonight and how blessed I am to have written this song. Blake grabs my hand, listening as he leads me into his living room and our favorite spot on his huge couch. We move together with such comfort and familiarity, and he always handles me so gently. I feel the beginnings of emotion clogging my throat, and I clear it away, trying to maintain my composure.

Once we sit, me cradled in his arms, my back against his broad chest, I take the chance to share my recent revelation with him. "You know what I figured out?"

"What's that?" His nose is buried in the curled wisps of my hair, his fingers busy tangling and untangling with mine as he listens.

"I'd been lying to myself; I hadn't loved Gavin for years. I was like a glass of juice or something, that had been thrown down onto the floor and smashed into like, a million little pieces. I mean, you can't expect those pieces to still contain the juice anymore, you know what I'm saying?" My heart was that fucking glass and it stayed there broken on the floor for so long. Too damn long. 

I feel his head bobbing slowly in understanding behind me, feel his warm breath blow past my ear as he opens his mouth to speak. "So, that's what you meant when you said you'd never perform that song the same way again?" 

"Yeah, I mean, singing it doesn't hurt so much anymore." This is true for so many reasons. "And now I've finally gotten to the point that I can acknowledge the truth about everything: about my marriage, about him, about me...about us." At the last phrase, I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Looking at his handsome face, I still can't believe that he is my reality, now.

Totally in my emotions, I pull out of his arms, moving away so I can turn to him. I'm still holding his hands in mine, my legs spilling out over his as I explain.

"I'm not a liar; never have been, but I learned so much about deception while I was married, but like _self-_ deception. Like, I told myself that it was okay to look the other way, or to believe him even when I knew he lied, and not to trust myself or my intuition. Basically, I ignored how I felt _everyday,_ for so many years, because the truth was too painful. It got to the point that I started to feel nothing at all." At the memory of my former life, I shake my head in disbelief. 

"I was like a zombie, day in and day out, just passive, barely keeping it together for the boys. And then came Apollo." It's now that the tears begin to come, as I think about the first miracle in my life, "...and then the show, and those things brought me so much happiness again. Then, the divorce took me down so low, but I almost didn't mind that either, because I was finally _feeling_ something and acknowledging the truth that I'd hid from all along."

I take one of my hands from his, using it to dry my wet cheeks. There's really no point though, because as soon as I wipe away a tear, a new one falls down behind it to take its place. "It's taken time for me to work on undoing the damage of lying to myself, and then getting used to facing my feelings again."

I've had to unlearn so many lies, things that Gavin insinuated or flat-out told me: that I wasn't enough as I am, that slowing down my grind would make him shine more, that I wasn't smart enough or sexy enough to keep his interest or that wearing makeup would stop him from checking out other women. I've had to accept the truth, even the truth that I hid from myself: that I stayed in a shitty marriage out of loyalty, not love, that I deserve the man of my dreams, that timing is everything and most importantly, that...

"I'm so in love with you that I can't think about anything else. I should've told you before now and I'm sorry that I didn't, but...I love you. And that's the truth." His face swims before me as tears cloud my eyes, but for the first time in a long time, everything is crystal clear to me.

"Dammit, Gwen." He inhales sharply, exhaling on a sigh, his grip on my hand secure. "I wanted to tell you first."

"You did." I can't help but smile, even in the midst of all these tears. "You told me every time you looked at me, every time you touched me, every time you wiped my tears and made me feel safe, or held my hand and made me feel like I was so special. I already knew that you loved me and that's been the best thing I've ever felt." 

"No, sweetheart, I don't think you understand." He huffs out a dry laugh, and runs his hands through his thick dark hair, before reaching once again for me. "I wake up in the morning and you're the first thing on my mind. You're the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. I dream some crazy, fucked up shit sometimes, but I always dream about you. I even dream about the boys some nights, all of us, together. No person, no woman has ever occupied so much of what I think, so much of what I feel. I swear, the words 'I love you' aren't enough, but it's all I have so, _I love you_."

They're only three short words but they slide in perfectly, like a key, into some empty slot in my heart. Their shape matches the jagged grooves of the tumblers inside my chest and like magic, they fit.

As I lean forward to find his lips with mine, the tears I've been struggling against burst free. His hands hold onto me so tight and he pulls me into his lap. I've never felt so loved. Or so alive. Happy tears, only, from now on, I silently pray.

 

Exhausted, but exhilarated, I finally slip into my bed at 4am. 

My eyes are red, the lids slightly puffy from my overly emotional display. My lips are swollen, and they're throbbing slightly, from hours of kissing and making out. I swear, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm on my period, I would've let him go as far as he wanted tonight. Instead, I settled for his wandering hands and roaming lips, his strong arms supporting me, and 'I love you" spoken tenderly against my skin.

How can you get out of prison and not turn your face towards the sunshine? How can you live a lie and not appreciate finally experiencing the truth? How could I be neglected and mistreated in my marriage and not fall for the amazing guy who's treated me better than I've known to treat myself?

In between kisses, we talked. Blake shared so much with me, it's like his words were caulk, sealing up the cracks in my fragmented heart. He told me how beautiful he thought I was, and how he admired me professionally, but beyond that, he told me I was smart and lovable. What's so funny is, I actually feel that way, now. It's as if he pressed his lips to where it hurt the most, kissing it and making it all better. It felt like restraints were snapped off of me, whatever hesitancy there had been before, was now fallen away.

"Because you're my princess," he told me at one point as he held me, kissing my forehead so sweetly that fresh tears formed. 

"And you're my hot cowboy," I replied, lifting my head slowly enough that his smooth lips coasted down first the bridge, then the tip of my nose, before landing where I wanted them most. They remained there for the rest of the night. 

I try to stay awake to replay all the memories I have of tonight. I don't want to forget a moment of what happened, a word of what was said, a look that crossed his face, but before too much longer, my eyes grow heavy and I succumb to sweet, sweet sleep.

 

That morning, I lay in bed until almost the last minute, first texting and then FaceTiming Blake. My boyfriend. The man I love. Who loves me right back. At that thought, I turn my face into the pillow to scream in delight and kick my legs in glee. I feel like such a kid right now, and I'm acting like one, too, all shy and smiley as we talk. I can't believe it took me so long to admit the truth to myself, but now that I have, I feel so liberated.

"This is like one of those dreams, right? A dream that's so good that you're pissed when you wake up from it before it's done. This is one of those, right?" We're on FaceTime now, me still in bed, covered by my sheets. He's in his kitchen, on his third cup of coffee because, according to him, he didn't sleep much last night.

"God, I hope not. But then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea. Then, I'd get to tell you I love you first, 'cause that's the way it s'posed to be, dammit!" I smile knowing that he's only half kidding. He's kicking himself for waiting so long to tell me how he felt. I tried to reassure him that it didn't matter, but he's a guy, so... "I'd started to send you this song for you to listen to a few weeks ago, but I didn't want to jump the gun."

I really love it when he tells me about songs that remind him of me or us. It lets me know that he's thinking about me, even when I'm not around. It doesn't get more flattering than that. "What song is that?" 

"You've heard it before, on the show this season, in fact. Here, let me send it to you." He texts me the name of a song and an artist, and I grab my iPad from my the drawer beside my bed to pull it up on YouTube.

_"Don't anyone wake me if its just a dream,_  
_Oh she's the best thing that's ever happened to me_  
_So tonight I'll ask the stars above, how did I ever win your love?  
_ _What did I do? What did I say? To turn your angel eyes my way?"_

"It's too early for this shit, Blake." I joke in a watery voice. My eyes have barely survived last night's downpour, but the lyrics to this song mean something so special to me this morning. I sniff and take a deep breath, wondering out loud, "Why am I just now finding you?"

"Don't think of it like that." His head shakes, warning me not to go there. I love it when he gets all serious on me; it's a sexy side of him that he doesn't show too often. "You had lessons to learn and so did I. Just think of it as we have the rest of our lives to be together. And if I quit drinking so damn much, that could be as much as another 60 years or so."

I laugh at his ability to go from philosophical to funny, in no time at all. "You don't even drink that much anymore."

"No need to when I stay pretty buzzed on you all the time." Ah, there goes a riot of butterflies taking flight in my stomach at his words. "Plus, I happen to be in a relationship with a mom of three boys; it was time for me to get my shit together."

Blake always puts me first, but as a mom, I have to put my kids first, and he respects that. He encourages that. And from his last comment, I can tell that he understands the responsibility of it all. This is a single mom's dream come true, and who knew it would materialize so quickly for me. I wasn't even looking. 

Things couldn't get any better for me right now.

 

On the set of "The Voice", we're all preparing for a sit-down interview with The Today Show before actual filming begins. I'm in my trailer with my team, getting ready, but other than picking up Blake for our usual drive into work, I haven't really seen him too much this afternoon. Once we made it to the studio, Adam dropped by my trailer to chat, and then they went off to handle some next season business. That was over an hour ago though, and now I'm feeling disgusted with myself because I'm being needy, wanting Blake back in here with me so I can talk with him and check him out, and for him to tease me and make me laugh and blush. I don't know why I'm acting so selfishly all of the sudden, but I hate it. This is the old Gwen Stefani; I thought that bitch was dead.

My first impulse is to FaceTime him to see where he's at, but I resist the urge; no one wants a clinger. Still, it's been an hour and a half, and by now I'm pretty much done with hair and makeup and I still don't know where he is. He's always in here with me talking with Danilo and Gregory while I get ready. We have some great conversations, the four of us, before the show starts. I guess I just miss him and need to occupy my mind with something else, instead of being that annoying girlfriend. Thinking of my social media accounts, I decide to take some pictures: some to post on Twitter and Instagram to keep in touch with my fans, and some to send his direction, killing two birds with one stone. Since he's not here to see me in my lacy black bra, panties and fishnets, I'll just have to show him what he's missing. 

I take five shots: two of them ready to post for the world, with only my legs and shoulders visible below my face, while the other three are for his eyes only. Nothing too risqué, but since he's always asking me to send pictures to him anyway, I figure he will appreciate these. I make sure to put on my black patent leather heels, as one picture is simply a view of my bent legs, up in the air, one slightly above the other, taken with the assistance of the wide mirror at the hair and makeup table. The other two accentuate my baby pink lips - I know they're his other favorite feature - along with my state of near-undress. I don't even type a message to go along with them as I press send, just a simple xo.

Alone in my trailer, now that everyone has left out for an early dinner, I head to the clothing rack and take my outfit off of it. With only half an hour before the interview, I may as well get dressed. I've loved wearing clothes that have been more feminine this time around. Choosing dresses and skirts, and showing off my legs in dainty and flirty outfits has done so much for my confidence as a woman. And of course, Blake's reactions to me in these outfits has given me quite the boost. He always has a sweet compliment, but just the look in his eyes when he sees me every Monday and Tuesday is enough. He can't keep his eyes or his hands off of me, and that's exactly how I like it. There's a knock at the door and a quick opening and closing. Speak of the devil, and he appears.

"You're trying to kill me, right? Sending me those pictures like that?" He covers the distance between us with two of his long strides. His hands blindly find mine, taking the hanging clothes from them, and placing them back on the nearby rack. He holds onto my bare shoulders as he looks in my eyes.

I'm standing here in my underwear, but he's looking me dead in my face. I give him my best version of a nonchalant smile as I try to explain those pictures. "Well, I just thought that since you were gone for so long, you might've forgotten what I looked like. Or maybe you just needed a good reason to come and find me. Either way..."

"...here I am." He lifts my chin up so he can reach my lips, and his mouth presses gently, sweetly against mine. When I'm wearing a bold lip, we usually try to reserve our marathon makeout sessions for after the pre-show interviews, and then again, after the show. There have been instances where he's ended up with bright lipstick all over his face and neck otherwise, and sometimes we haven't noticed it until it was almost too late. Now we exercise more caution. "Adam is long-winded and the damn season 10 info session went on way too long, but I'm back."

"I missed you sitting here with me, but I don't want to talk about it." I don't want him to know how stupidly insecure I've been for the past couple of hours. Dropping my arms from around his neck, I grab my outfit again. Something about how he's staring at me right now is making me feel like he was as anxious to see me as I was to see him. I look up at him with big, innocent eyes and ask, "Help me get dressed?"

He steps back from me, his baby blues roaming my body, finally noticing my lack of clothing. "Now, why would I be dumb enough to help you do somethin' that's the _exact opposite_ of what I really want?"

My voice drops to a sexier register, now. "Because you're a gentleman." I step flush against his body. "And you don't want me to catch a cold." My hand reaches up to finger-comb his hair. "And I _know_ you don't want the other guys to see me like this." I unbutton the top of his shirt. "Plus, I just love the feel of your hands on me, for _any_ reason." I give a wet kiss to the small patch of skin now revealed by his open collar and lean back to look up at him. The look on his face makes me forget whatever it was I wanted to say next.

I unzip the shiny leather of the mini skirt and hand it to him to hold out for me. With a hand placed on his shoulder, I keep my eyes on his, gingerly stepping one leg at a time into the piece. I turn silently, eventually facing my mirror. His hands are on me, following my hips all the way around to the zipper at the back. Standing closer than necessary, he pulls the closure up, slowly enough that I can hear the individual teeth as they click and connect with the space on the opposite side. Once finished with the task, he smooths down the sides of the fabric with his large hands, the warm sweetness of his breath on my shoulder as he leans down to kiss me there.

Moving like I'm in an underwater dream, I reach for the flowery netted top, and with my back still to him, he helps me slide it on - first one sleeve, then the other. His hand spans the entire plane of my stomach as he pulls me back into him, my ass pressed against his body. Starting from the bottom, he hooks the eyelet fastenings that hold the separate sides of my top together, watching his progress in the mirror that we face. My breath comes short as he makes his way up to the top, that last hook resting just underneath my breasts. I lean forward to grab the black leather belt. I put it on so that the buckle faces him and without a word, he cinches it snugly around my waist. 

"Are we all done?" Low and sexy in my ear, his accent ripples through me like a rock thrown on still water. I close my eyes, trying in vain to fight against need that wells up inside of me.

I reach behind me and locate his hands, bringing them across to wrap around my waist as we stand in the middle of my cluttered, yet quiet trailer. Our reflection in the mirror provides me with a chance to directly meet his blue eyes.

"For now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is so much awesome news with these two again this month, but I'm so motivated to keep my posting schedule. Pray for me, y'all.
> 
> thank you for continuing to read and write amazing comments. It feeds my writer's soul.


	27. Get a Little Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their feelings shared, Gwen and Blake are one step closer to complete intimacy. What's holding them back?

"You look like pile of potpourri, with the net and the flowers and all." Adam comes in the room where the interview is filming and says hello to everyone before addressing Gwen directly.

"So what you're saying is, you'd shove her in the back of your grandma's panty drawer to spill all over the place..." I'm being an jackass on purpose. Getting Adam all riled up is one of my guilty pleasures; plus it'll help burn off some of this tension that I feel after helping Gwen get dressed a few minutes ago.

"No, what I'm saying, asshole, is that she's pretty and smells good, too." He and I hung out for a little while this afternoon already, so there's absolutely no bite to our words. I mean I really don't want to be the guy that dumps his friends for his girl, but I do have one hell of a girl in my life, and honestly, all I want to do is be around her. But I guess a little time away from her now and then will give us the chance to miss each other. And if she sends pictures like the ones she sent today to draw me back in every time, it'll be more than worth it. 

"Well, how hard is it to just fuckin' _say_ that, you dipshit? Fuckin' potpourri..." I swear, I love Adam, but he's makes it hard to get along with him for more than five minutes at a time. He's right though, she does look and smell beautiful, so soft and lady-like. She always does though. I'm having a hard time looking at anything else but her, as she stands close to my side. 

We're getting miked up for the "Today Show" interview, and they request that the four of us sit as we do on the show, so I end up with Pharrell between me and Gwen. Of course, I'd rather sit next to her, but it's not too horrible of an arrangement, though. We're still seated pretty close to each other, and it's easy to just look right down at her. Half of the time, she's already looking right back at me. I'm loving the fact that every time our eyes meet, hers are sparkling and a quick smile isn't too far behind. It makes a man like me feel good to know that I've put that sparkle there, and that I can take at least partial credit for that smile.

In spite of the sexual tension we battled through earlier, I think we're both in a light mood right now, as is everyone else. Gwen is almost floating. Her laughter spills out as her head flies back, and her graceful neck is begging for me to cover it with kisses. Her hair looks like a platinum blonde cloud, her lips like they've been coated with sticky sweet bubblegum. She's got the posture of a queen, and her top leg is crossed, swinging in my direction like she wants me to reach out and touch it. Truth be told, I'd rather be anywhere but here; I want to be holding her and listening to her breath speed up in between kisses. I realize just how obsessive all this would probably sound if I were to speak it out loud, but I'm beyond caring. She said she loves me and that's worth more than any award, any million-dollar salary, any sold-out tour ever. I'm still in awe that this is my life. Her infectious giggle pulls me out of of my internal monologue, and back to the present conversation that's got her so tickled.

"Pharrell...Pharrell, I'll pay you $100 to switch places with Gwen." Adam leans over to speak to him, but Pharrell has his arms folded, showing absolutely no interest in what is being offered.

"What? You think you can buy me for $100? Man..." As usual, Pharrell is in this low-energy zone, being observant and just watching the play of action between everyone

"C'mon, I just wanna watch Blake squirm when they ask him about Gwen." He leans over further to look right at me, "You know she's gonna ask about you two, right?"

Gwen's laughter dies and she glances at me nervously before speaking up, "I really don't want to answer any questions about that." We lock eyes, and I try to wordlessly reassure her that I won't say a word before she's ready. I think she understands, a look passing between us before Adam chimes in.

"Don't worry; I love you guys. We got your back, right Pharrell?"

"Indeed, we do. We'll be like ninja warriors, blocking questions left and right." He deflects invisible question hurled through the air with his arms, making the appropriate 'hee-yah' sound effects to go along with the motions. It's hilarious. 

"I don't blame you though, Gwen." Adam straightens up to talk to her in a stage whisper. "I wouldn't want to admit to dating Blake on national television either so..."

"Adam, you _wish_ you could be so lucky; you know you want all of this!" I throw my hands to my chest, indicating what 'this' I'm speaking of.

"Put it away, cowboy." Arms folded, head shaking left to right, and a smirk on his face, Adam tries to dismiss me.

Not before I dismiss him first, my own smirk firmly in place. "That's not what you said last night." 

Gwen's laughter fills the air in the room like the sound of wind chimes, her pretty hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh my god, my face hurts already."

 

 

Just as Adam predicts, Natalie, the lady interviewing us, asks me and Gwen about our relationship being made public. Oh sure, she starts out innocently enough, asking about the chemistry the four of us have and then she slides into a question about the bromance between me and Adam. I'm really starting to hate that word, "bromance", but that's another story. I spend most of that hour smiling down at Gwen, watching her be carefree and enjoy herself. My hands are literally itching to touch her, and not for the first time I wish her and Pharrell would switch places. Her skin is almost...dewy. Is that even a word? She's glowing and laughing, sitting down there with her hands on her lap, having a good time. And I'm having a good time watching her be so relaxed and so damn happy - that is until the question comes up.

"Is it good to just be out in the open now?" In that instant, Gwen's face goes from joyful and animated to 'How dare you, bitch'. It's hilarious to see her face transform, but I hold onto my laughter until she turns to look at me, her face saying 'can you believe this shit?' That's when I let it loose.  


"That was a nice segue," Pharrell doesn't miss a beat, stepping into ninja mode.

"Next question." Adam sings the words to divert attention from me, and mostly from Gwen. "Ask the next question before it gets awkward."

It works like a charm, Gwen returning to her giddy laughter, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. I hate seeing her uncomfortable, so in this moment I'm so thankful for the two guys to my right for protecting her when I really couldn't. No, I'm not totally sure of why she's so hesitant to make any comment about us being together, but it doesn't matter to me, not at all.

As the Today Show co-host tosses another question to the four of us, Gwen looks past Pharrell as he answers, to me. There's a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth and she blinks, her brown eyes softly indicating that she's okay. And right now, that's all that matters.

 

 

Once the taping is done, I help Gwen de-mike and lean down so only she can hear me, "I'm going back to my trailer before the show begins. You wanna come with me?"

She grabs onto my arm, smiling as she nods yes. We still have about an hour until she'll need to do touch-ups before the show begins, so we excuse ourselves from the room, and hand in hand walk back to my trailer. I hold the door open for her and turn on a floor lamp as soon as we get inside. I can't keep my hands off of her once I lock us in.

"Come here." I reach out my hand for her and pull her down on my lap. Those puffy pink lips have had me fixated all afternoon, and now with the interview out of the way, I get my chance to sample them. I place a closed-mouth kiss on those lips before my tongue travels between them as they part, making way for my entry. I feel her arms reach around my neck, pulling our bodies even closer and I can't help but imagine her doing the same thing, only this time with me on top of her, pressing my naked hips into hers.

My itching hands remember their desire to touch her all over, and I make good on my promise to do so. Her legs are crossed, but I slide my hand in between her thighs, separating them, so that my fingers can take the journey down their length and back up again. My lips leave hers, only to appreciate the long stretches of skin on her neck. Her breathing is punctuated by short sighs, her hands keeping my head in place as I love on the sensitive part of her skin right at her collarbone, at the base of her throat.

Still hungry to taste more, my mouth breaks away again. I've been staring at the space in between her breasts where her top dips low, and as my hand rises to cup her through the mesh, my lips brush lightly over the exposed skin. Her body releases a shiver in response. She smells like something so sweet and fresh and my tongue darts out, licking a short trail upwards. The sound of my name on her lips is a dream come true, every time, and I pull her head down to mine again, sharing a kiss of gratitude and love.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" She pulls her head back an inch away from mine, so close that I can feel the breath that leaves her mouth as she speaks.

I'm confused. "Does it look like I'm mad at you?" My breath is coming quickly and I've got one hand stroking her thigh and another around her body, fingertips on her boob. I'm anything _but_ mad at her. "Why would I be mad at you?"

She slowly and deliberately places pecks on my face, randomly, first a corner of my mouth, then my cheek, next full on my lips, and then above my eyebrows. "Because I didn't want to answer the question about us. I don't want you to be disappointed in me not talking about our relationship." Her kisses stop and she meets my eyes, concerned about how I will respond.

"I've got the most beautiful, most amazing woman in the world sitting in my trailer, currently on my lap. You think I give a shit about you not answering an interview question?"

"Well, I only say that because I know you would've answered her if it wasn't for me."

"Yeah, maybe I would have, but I'm still gonna follow your lead in this sweetheart. There's no rush, no right or wrong way to do this. If you're not ready to talk about it that's fine." And I mean that. I couldn't give a flying fuck if we _never_ talk publicly about our relationship.

"But let me say this, I don't mind if _you_ do. I just can't yet. I'd get too tongue-tied and probably sound crazy trying to respond to something I was asked, at this point, but that's just me. I think you'd handle it better."

"You sure?" I'm not used to biting my tongue, but I can and I will, unless... "Because if you want me to wait, I will."

"You've waited long enough, in more ways that one." She says this as her hands comb through the back of my hair, and she draws me towards her lips again. She lets fingers roam under the jacket of my suit coat, across my chest, down my stomach, and around my back.

Between kisses she continues. "You've been so patient with me, Blake and I love you for that." She presses her weight against me and leans us against the back of the couch. Careful to not ruin the delicate crisis cross pattern running up her legs, I palm her ass through her leather skirt before my fingers creep under to explore her thighs beneath. 

My mind is slow and clumsy, unable to process all these noteworthy bits of information at once. It settles on the words 'I love you' and filters out the rest, for now.

 

"Look, this is the situation..." 

Gwen's up on her feet, passionately supporting Korin and pleading her case. Her hands are gesturing, she's looking around at the audience and I'm just sitting here like a lovesick fool with my heart in my eyes. The girl has clearly fucked up her words, and is now in the bottom two for the third week in a row, but Gwen sees amazing things in this contestant and won't give up on her.

Once the two contestants, both Gwen's, perform their songs in an effort for the instant save, they get a chance to speak to their coach and express whatever it is they need to say. They think so highly of her, and it's evident in their words and their blatant admiration of her. I've seen her with the kids on her team, and she is just as nurturing and loving to them as she'd be to her own boys. She could very well be some diva, walking around here like her shit don't stink because of who she is, but instead, she's the most humble, simple, lovable woman. Damn, I'm lucky to have her. 

Since we're both headed to the airport tomorrow: me to Nashville, then the ranch, and her to New York, we planned it so that I'd spend the night at her house and head to the airport at the same time in the morning. She wants to hang around the set for a bit though, saying that if the boys are still awake when I walk into the house, that they'd never go to bed, because they'd be so excited to see me. That gives me such a thrill to hear. It's so important for the kids to not only like me, but to feel comfortable with me and accept me with their mom. What started out as me trying to win her over has become me wanting to insert myself into their lives for the long run.

Hanging out in her trailer for a while, I take off my blazer and she immediately removes her stockings. "I can save them for another time if they don't get a run in them." I watch her as she wiggles them down underneath that mini-skirt and bending over, slides them down and off her legs. She steps out of her shiny heels, one at a time, kicking up each leg behind her to pull the hose off completely. Sexy little shit like that just kills me. It's not always about the obviously sexy things; sometimes the things she does that are just normal and everyday to her, are the things that make my heart stop beating. Like taking off fucking pantyhose.

She pads around the the trailer barefoot, taking off her top and skirt, placing them on their hangers to be picked up by Rob or Mariel before she leaves. Although she could've stayed in her black bra and panties for all I care, she puts on her jeans and t-shirt before removing her makeup and coming to join me. She's gotten to the point now where she's wearing less and less makeup around me, but I don't think I've ever seen her without something on her face. It matters to me more than it would otherwise, because of her history with her asshole ex-husband. The fucker had her believing that she needed to be made up to be attractive, so she was reapplying her makeup sometimes more than once a day, just hanging out around the house. It's important to me that she realizes that she's beautiful with or without all that, and even more important that she knows her beauty is not just her face, it's her heart.

She comes out of the bathroom, having packed her stuff up to be ready to leave. "What you thinking about?" She's standing in front of me, hands placed on my stomach, while I lean against the trailer wall, as I've watched her come and go.

"Thinking that I wish my 'shorty' would finish packing and come over and join me. Especially since I won't be seeing her again until Saturday." I learned a new word from Adam's performance tonight: 'shorty' means 'girlfriend'. I'm so impressed with myself and Gwen smiles at me. I think she's impressed with me too.

"Oh, you were paying attention tonight, huh?" Her body falls loosely into mine, and we're touching from our knees all the way up. The hands that had been still before, now rise up my chest, to my neck and touch my face. Her fingers smooth down my eyebrows and scrape my beard lightly as she smiles into my eyes. 

I shrug, acting nonchalant. "Every now and then, yeah, in between the times I was staring at you." Taking my hands out of my pockets, I place them into the back pockets of her jeans. 

She ducks her head and her full lips turn up at the compliment. "I really wish I could go to Nashville with you for the Entertainer of the Year thing. That's _so_ awesome, I mean like my boyfriend is _the_ biggest country star."

She looks and sounds so proud of me. Someone as legendary and successful as she is being proud of my success blows me away. "Wow, thanks sweetheart. I wish you could go too, but you've got your own promo to do. Don't worry though, there's gonna be a bit of you there."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Her lips scrunch up, her eyes squinting in curiosity.

"Watch it and you'll see." I can't hold back any longer. With no lipstick to worry about messing up, I can't wait to reclaim her lips as mine. I drag her arms up to where they usually go, around my neck, and pull her up on her bare tiptoes so her mouth is within reach without me leaning down too far. 

Sometimes, I'm so hungry that I groan audibly at the first taste of food that hits my tongue. This kiss is the same way. I'm so starved for her that I make a sound from my chest that I barely recognize as my own. As her tongue passes over mine, I realize I'm holding onto her arms so tightly and I loosen my grip, not wanting to leave bruises on her pale skin. She's so precious and I don't know if she realizes that or not. I try my best to let her know, my mouth conveying the message with kisses instead of words.

Gwen gives my mouth a sexy peck one last time before she pulls slightly away. I notice her eyes are unfocused as they move from my eyes to my lips, then back up again. "What time am I picking you up Saturday?"

After the awards show, I've got a few recording sessions scheduled, and then I need to make a quick pit stop at the ranch to get some things in motion for Gwen to come out before Christmas. "A little before noon."

"Come spend the weekend at my place?" She laces her fingers in mine, bringing them to her chest between our bodies. "The boys are with their dad until after school on Monday, and we can just go to the show from my house."

"Yeah?" My body is overheating and I can't seem to get my tongue and mind to sync up to say anything more intelligent. 

"Yeah. I think we're way overdue for some alone time. There's some things we just can't do with the kids running around, you know what I mean?" She stands on her toes again to sear my lips with a hot kiss. "I love you baby, and I need you to love me. I need it so bad, I'm literally going crazy." These words are whispered hotly against my mouth, and I feel my erection spring to life against her stomach as our mouths find each other once more. I already know that tonight's a no-go in that department, so I war with my body, trying to get it under control.

 _'I need you to love me.'_ Those words ring in my ears and I know they're important, but I push them aside to reflect on later. Later, when the blood flow returns to my brain. "I do love you...and I will."

Saturday suddenly seems like months away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Barely made this one in my "every other day" timeline. Whew! Accidentally deleted what I had written, but this re-write was better, so, whatever.
> 
> Two weeks 'til Gwen's album drops. Go preorder it on Amazon or iTunes or target.com!
> 
> Love you Hotline Bling, as usual. Can't wait to see you!


	28. Waiting For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a couple of days to travel separately, how will Gwen and Blake cope with the urgent need to be together? Will last minute insecurities derail their desires?

"No, actually the first time I really knew who Gwen Stefani was was in 2001 when 'Hey Baby' came out." We had finally taken our hands and lips off of each other long enough to make it off of the Universal Studios lot, and into the car to head towards my house. It's a freaking miracle.

"'Cause that August, 'Austin', my debut single hit #1 on the country charts, and it even went Top 20 on the regular charts. I started paying a lot more attention to the Billboard ranking then, and I specifically remember seeing 'Austin' fallin' off the charts as 'Hey Baby' was risin'. Then, I happened to see like... some show on how y'all made the video or something like that on MTV?"

I chuckle lightly at the memory. My dad was on the set and so was Gavin, my boyfriend at the time. Back in those days, No Doubt felt unstoppable. Good times, good memories. "Oh yeah, 'Making the Video', that's right, I remember that."

"Yeah, and I was like 'Whoa! Lookie here!'"

I turn my head in his direction, looking for clarification on that remark. Was that a bad 'whoa!' Or a good 'whoa!'? "What does that mean?"

"I don't think I had ever seen you before then. Like, I'd heard y'alls music on the radio, but I had never _seen_ you. You were badass, and you were gorgeous. I was so shocked, I mean, I couldn't believe that I didn't know that before then." His voice is animated and it warms my insides to hear what he thought of mean way back when. Who would've ever thought our paths would cross one day. Cross, and then converge. 

"That was like, what...almost 15 years ago?" I fondly remember the black, white and red of the 'Rock Steady' era: my long blonde hair, black lined lips, gold tipped fingernails. "I was cute back then; I didn't know it, but yeah, looking back now I see that I was."

His hand brushes my cheek; his words stroke my ego. "Yeah, but you're _way_ cuter now."

I look over at him and he's totally serious. He holds my gaze, and I can't break away from the blue sincerity in his eyes. Unable to stop myself, my face melts and I smile my 'thank you' at him.

Maybe it's the greying of his hair or the fact that he's so big in size compared to me, but the difference in our ages hasn't bothered me as much as I would've assumed it would. But still, I can't help but wonder...

"I bet lots of those country girls that come to your shows are cute too." Ugh, I sound so insecure right now and I hate myself for it. Damn you, Gavin Rossdale. 

"You're right, some of them are cute." His nod is matter-of-fact, devoid of any emotion. "But none of them is you, so it doesn't even matter, you know what I'm saying?"

Why did that come out of my mouth? Why did I even _think_ that? He's never given me any cause for suspicion. The fact that he pays such close attention to me is one of the things that drew me towards him to begin with. "Blake, I like, totally trust you. I'm sorry, it's just an old habit that I'm still trying to kick." Hopefully, he'll understand. My marriage and divorce almost destroyed me; even now, I'm still such a work in progress.

"I know the feeling sweetheart, trust me." He brings my hand to his lips. His feelings for me shine in his eyes, making me feel like we fit so perfectly, despite all my imperfections.

 

I'm wide awake. 

Blake is fast asleep underneath me, snoring lightly, arms holding me securely as if I'm trying to slip away from him in one of his dreams. This is so unusual; I _never_ have a problem falling asleep. Sleeping is one of my favorite things to do, especially in his embrace, but I'm not even the slightest bit tired.

Once we made it to my house, we crashed, the emotion and tension of the past few days taking over our bodies. We got ready for bed together, and climbed under the sheets. At first we attempted to spoon, but I wanted to be able to see his face and feel his warm breath on my cheeks, so I put an end to that by turning to face him. Drowsily, he told me that everything between us was almost too good to believe; my eyes were heavy-lidded as I told him that I still hadn't wrapped my mind around all of it. He whispered that he loved me so much, and with a slow, sleepy kiss we said goodnight. 

Between then and now, my mind kicked into overdrive and here I am still awake, two hours later, thinking and silently praying, thanking God for working another miracle in my life. I'm not sure what I did to deserve all of this: being able to write again, feeling so happy and alive, coaching on 'The Voice' and having Blake to love me, and basically save me from traps I set for myself. It reminds me of that song from "The Sound of Music" that Maria and Captain von Trapp sing to each other:

_"For here you are, standing there, loving me, whether or not you should,  
_ _So somewhere in my youth, or childhood, I must have done something good."_

It's so crazy. Falling for Blake was the easiest thing for me. It happened so quickly, without my permission, and before I even realized it. Loving someone had always been such a struggle before - a fight to prove my worth, or to maintain their attention in the midst of so many other distractions - but not with him. With Blake, I loved him as easily as I breathed. And for once, I found someone who knew how to love me right back, the way I needed to be loved. No one else ever cared to learn how, before him.

I push myself up, inside the circle of his arms, to reach his lips with mine; just a light brush so as not to wake him. I study his face as he sleeps: the long lashes that hide his beautiful blue eyes, the shadow of stubble that lays underneath his bottom lip, the slope of his nose that loves to rustle my hair when he breathes me in. I love him and I'm still so in awe of us. My mind races with so many questions. Where the hell would I be now without him? What if the timing _hadn't_ worked out just right, like it did? I would've never have gotten the chance to be kissed by him, or feel so secure just to have him around me. There's no way I can imagine my life without him in it, and as I feel myself becoming emotional, I nestle further into his arms, the sound of his heart beating underneath me, the rhythm that finally calms my restless mind and lulls me to sleep.

 

"Sweetheart, don't cry."

We had awakened and tiptoed out of the house before the kids were up, taking the car service to the airport. My flight is leaving in a minute and his takes off in another thirty. Leave it to me to be in tears again as we kiss goodbye at the bottom of the stairs of the private jet.

"I'm such a baby," I laugh through my tears and end up hiccuping; what a mess. 

My hands smooth down the material of his plaid shirt distractedly, as I speak."Look, text me when you get to Nashville, okay? My flight doesn't land until 1:30 New York time, and I'm going straight to the radio station and then to the Tonight Show for the 5 o'clock taping." 

We are so on the same wavelength when it comes to staying in touch. "And if we don't have a chance to FaceTime before the awards show, I'll call you as soon as I can tonight."

"it doesn't matter how late, okay?" It sucks being away from him, especially with both of us being so busy that we don't even have time to check in with each other as much as we'd like to.

"Sounds good." He crushes me to his body, and I enjoy the warmth and smell of him for one last time until Saturday. "I'm excited that you've got all this stuff goin' on. I'm so proud of you, Gwen, I'm so happy that you're getting somethin' good out of all of the crap you've been through."

"You're my 'something good', you know that right?" Before I allow him to answer, I pull him down by his collar for a hot, wet kiss. "And, yeah, 'Artist of the Year'. That's like, super impressive, you know?"

"You're super impressive, and super sweet, and super beautiful, and super sexy." He leans down to kiss me. "And we are super sickening." He ends on a laugh, and I join in.

"Yeah we are, but I kinda love it." After the dry, loveless years I lived through, this is a welcome change. His affection and attention waters my soul.

With his lips foreshadowing his words, he places a kiss on my forehead."And I love you."

"I love you too." One last kiss, and then I climb the stairs leaving him behind for now. The next time I see him, I want to give him everything I have: body and soul. 

 

 

I thrive on being busy, especially right now when I've got nothing but thoughts of Blake to occupy my mind. While it would've been awesome to be able to go to Nashville to support him, it's also amazing to have a major radio show interview and a performance on a major late night talk show. Either way, I'm finally winning.

I can't believe I'm here, right now, physically at the Elvis Duran radio show, and musically with my song being #5 on iTunes. The interview with him is amazing and I feel so fulfilled being able to connect with people as an artist; I know that everything I've gone through hasn't been in vain. I briefly mention that the last five years of my life have been anything but good, and I really feel that the forgiveness that I've been trying to work my way towards is actually on the verge of happening. The bitter taste in my mouth and sour pitch to my stomach is gone, as I think back to my marriage. For me, that's the ultimate sign that I'm successfully moving on, and am ready for whatever lies ahead of me. 

I'm feeling so great, that I might have even answered a question concerning Blake, had I been asked, but I love the fact that they stuck to the topic of my music. As much as I love this crazy thing we have between us, I don't want to be sought after just because of my relationship with Blake. Especially with all this new music coming out of me, I want to continue to draw interest on my own merit. That supports my connection and confidence as an artist.

Signing a few autographs before I leave for the Tonight Show, I get a text from Blake. He landed before me and had an interview to do before his awards show.

**Hey sweetheart. You headed to do Fallon?**

**Omw right now. Are you going to be able to watch tonight?** I feel so cheered on by him when he's around, and it would still mean so much to know he's tuned in tonight.

**Probably have to catch it online after the CMT thing. Hey, next time I do an award show or concert or something in Nashville, I want you with me. Everyone keeps asking me about you and this is some bullshit that you can't be here.**

That sends a thrill straight to my heart. Country music is such a tight knit community and although I know that Blake is strong enough to handle whatever comes his way, I breathe a bit easier knowing that Nashville isn't giving him a hard time about me. He is Artist of the Year, though, so what else would I expect?

**Wow, people are asking about _me?_ That's so rad. Deal, next time for sure.**

**Hey beautiful, I gotta go. I love you.**

This is the first time he's sent those words via text. I screen shot it, out of excitement.

**I love you back.**

My life is so crazy right now, and it's better than I could've ever hoped for. He's doing his own thing, and I'm doing my own, but we still come together to do us. It's no wonder I feel so much joy

 

I'm back in my hotel room, frantically searching the television for the country music station where Blake's award show will be broadcasting tonight. I end up having to get my assistant to help me live stream it on my laptop, because I don't want to miss out on seeing him get his award. 

Watching the show, I'm glad he's first, and I get a little kick out of the subtle hints and mentions about me. Blake accepts the award, saying the year is ending 'so awesome' for him and I selfishly smile, knowing that I have a part to play in that, and that I could say the very same thing, because of him.

Tomorrow is another full day of interviews and promo to do here in New York, and even though I'm exhausted from not getting enough sleep last night, I stay up to wait for his FaceTime call. Checking the time in Los Angeles, I call my kids after dinner and spend time catching up on their day. I listen to a mix of a song I just wrote with my Breakfast Club crew and do some online shopping for my trip to Oklahoma in a few weeks. I wash my face, brush my teeth and put on my pajamas, just so I'm ready for his call. I put "Reloaded" on shuffle so I can listen to his rich country voice while I wait; the first song it plays is "Neon Light". I've got myself so fucking stoked for this phone call, I can't even believe it.

It's the first thing out of my mouth when FaceTime rings on my phone and I answer.  


"I'm like, so fucking stoked for this call, I can't believe it."

He laughs, still wearing the dark button down shirt he wore on the show, as he walks around his hotel room. "And why is that?"

I pretend to seriously think about it for a second. "Hmm, I wonder. Mostly because you look so hot in that black shirt."

"Oh you like that, huh? It brings out my eyes, is that what it does?." He pops his collar and wiggles his eyebrows which only serves to make me laugh. "How was the Tonight Show?" 

I spend a few minutes telling him about the performance, but I'd really rather talk about him and his award. The more I think about it, the more I realize that he's doing some real moving and shaking right now, in more than just the country music world.

"I'm such a proud girlfriend. You've got like, so much going on right now, and I think you're doing such an amazing job." Taking my phone off the pillow where it's been laying, I prop it up on the iPod speaker on the nightstand, so I can get a more comfortable viewing position.

"We've _both_ got lots of stuff happenin' for us. You're my good luck charm, though; you're better than a four leaf clover or a rabbit's foot any day." His words win my smile. "Did you see the show?"

"Yeah, I did! It was cute, those little moments where I felt like I was included. And yeah, my year is ending so awesome too, so I wanted to say thank you for that." I think back to his words from a few weeks ago; you never know who in your life is gonna be the person that saves you. "One of these days you're going have to introduce me to Luke Bryan."

He sits down now and his face frowns, his ear turning towards his speaker, trying to hear more clearly what's playing in the background of my room. "What you listenin' to?"

"'Your album. Right now 'God Gave Me You' just started." Try as I might to stay cool, I can never cover up the heart that I wear on my sleeve. I bubble over with a mixture of emotions, as I sit hundreds of miles away from, yet face to face with, the person whose arms make me feel the safest. "I've been missing you, Blake Shelton, and I needed to hear you singing to me."

At my words, his frown disappears and his hand smooths past the stubble that covers his cheek. "You know what's funny? I was thinkin' about this tonight on the way to the show. The last song I really wrote on was the one about my brother in 2011. Since then, I haven't really even wanted to write. I haven't had any sort of emotional connection to anything, and so I was just kinda happy to get demos and go from that. But now that you've been in my life, I've written so many songs. More songs in the past three months than in the past 15 years combined."

He has no need to woo me; he knows that my heart is already his, but I guess my sensitive mood has influenced him from across our different time zones and he's pouring out his feelings for me, directly to me. This is the kind of stuff I live for.

 

"Like that song you're listening to right there; that was a song on Christian radio that I covered. I'm kind of the country ballad guy, and so I get handed a lot of the slower songs like this, but I tell you Gwen, I could've written this song about you. It's so exactly right on the money, and it's just further proof that we were meant to find each other. ' _There's more here than what we're seeing, a divine conspiracy. That you, an angel lovely, could somehow fall for me.'_ I've sung those words more times than I can count, but they've been just words to me. There's never been a true connection to that lyric, for me. But next time I sing them, I'll know exactly what the writer meant, because I know for a fact, with all the coincidences and crazy timing, that God gave me you."

My heart is in my throat, beating like crazy and I take a few moments to respond. "Wow. That's probably the most perfect thing anyone's ever said to me."

"If it's perfect, that's because it's the truth." His eyes are so sincere, and I feel so grateful to have him. He doesn't mind sharing his heart with me, and that's my favorite part of him.

"I know it's true. I feel something so different from anything I've ever experienced just being with you." For the first time in my life, I'm finally getting as good as I've been giving. Scratch that; better than I've been giving. "It's almost overwhelming me, but it's _so good_ that like, I don't ever want it to stop, you know what I mean? Like, I couldn't take it if this ever stopped." 

"Just wait 'til we make love." 

Instantly, with those softly-spoken words, the mood in my room changes and my stomach dips and lurches inside of me. "I know." I feel so shy with his eyes on me now. I'm sure he has no clue as to how much I really do want him. "As soon as you walked into my house yesterday, I..."

"Yes! That reminds me of something you said earlier this week." Blake never interrupts me when I'm speaking, so it's surprising, but at the same time I realize it must be important. 

"Before I forget again, do you know the song 'Leather and Lace'?" I shake my head no. "Download it, honey. You talk about a song that could've been written by or about us? That's it, right there. And get this shit; it's a fuckin' duet. One of the singers from Fleetwood Mac wrote it, and then she sang it with one of the guys from The Eagles."

He seems pretty pumped about the song, and since he's my 80s musical jukebox, I listen to him, immediately pausing 'Drink On It' and finding it to download on my laptop. I pull up the words to read along with as it plays. I swear, it's as if someone knew our story, and set it to music. 

_"Still I carry this feeling, when you walked into my house,_  
_That you won't be walking out the door_  
Lovers forever, face to face; My city, your mountains, stay with me stay  
_I need you to love me, I need you today  
_ _Give to me your leather, take from me my lace"_

Every now and then, I glance up from the lyrics to find him looking at me. This song is truly touching my heart; the lyrics really hold so much meaning for me. It's like the soundtrack for our relationship, so accurate and so intimate. The vocals match exactly how I feel, as well; so much longing and raw honesty. Listening to it takes me to a place where I feel vulnerable, like every part of me is exposed to his eyes.

"That song makes me feel so many things; I don't even know right now." Shaking my head, I try to clear it of the rising emotion. It's not just the beauty of the song, but the yearning in it that gets to me. 

"When Jeffery makes it into the finals, that'd be a good song for y'all to do for your duet." Blake and I had been talking about song choice for the finale, and I think he's right. The range of my voice would be well suited for this song, and I could really get into the emotion of it.

"I agree. I'll hand it over to get cleared for the show. Wow." The words stay with me, _lovers forever_. "Where do you find this stuff?"

He taps the side of his head and his smile shows that he's pleased that I love the song. I'm sure I'll be listening to this all day tomorrow, trying to learn the words.

With so many emotions swirling around inside of me, I'm sitting here wishing we were together. I could really use his comfort right now, the feel of his arms around me to hold me as I crumble. I'm so emotional and I know it's not just my period that's to blame. It's the songs, our newly-professed feelings and the physical distance between us that's causing my heart to fill near bursting. I want this thickness in the air around me to settle and leave me alone, so I can eventually get some sleep. 

Breaking my eyes away from his, I return to my laptop and his track listing. Pressing the next button, 'Sangria' starts up. It's easily one of the sexiest songs I've ever heard in my life and with Blake singing it, I turn immediately to mush whenever it comes on. God help me.

"They did a nice job singing this and 'Neon Light' tonight at the awards show." I say, indicating what's playing. "Did you get to bring your award home with you?" Maybe if I just keep talking, I can find my way out of this tornado of emotion and into calmer waters.

He reaches for something nearby, and pulls out the crystal object that he took home from tonight. "This is 'bout the heaviest award I've ever held." He holds it out close to the phone for me to see.

"That's like so awesome. You're the freaking king of country music, you know that, right? And definitely like, the hottest too."

"You think I'm the hottest?" A slow, sexy grin spreads across his face and my insides liquefy. He knows that I think he's sexy, so why is he messing with me? 

"Yeah, because you are." I blame the song for taking my mind to a different place and making my blood run hot inside my body. "I'm listening to 'Sangria' right now, and I have a little confession to make."

"What's that, baby girl?"

"This song is so sexy; it fucks me up, especially when you do that low part towards the end. Your voice just makes me feel things." I can't believe I'm telling him this, but neither can I hold back from saying it. "Every time I listen to it, I daydream about how good it's going to be."

" _'It'_ what, Gwen?" I can see that he wants me to spell things out.

My cheeks flush as I say the words out loud. "When we make love. Sometimes I, like, torture myself thinking about it." And if only he knew how much. I would tell him, but his eyes are already burning a hole through mine.

He doesn't let my remark pass him without comment. "What do you think about?" 

I knew he would ask me that, and although the pitch of his voice is doing crazy things to me, I don't know if I can answer him the way he wants me to. "Baby, you know I'm shy."

"It's just me, so you don't have to be." And I want to be that free, that uninhibited to just say exactly what I see in my imagination, but I just can't. At least, not yet.

"Like, I just know it's going to feel right, not just physically but emotionally, and I'm nervous, yeah, but I'm like, so ready at the same time, you know? I'm just ready to be _that close_ to you, to have you _that close_ to me."

I've _been_ ready. Now there's just one more thing I have to do first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me and this story. Your comments are like fuel to my fingers. This week will be another exciting one, but I'm trying to work ahead to keep my postings on schedule. 
> 
> The ever honest Hotline Bling - I can't believe you're almost here!


	29. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Gwen are finally in the same space, at the same time. What's stopping them from going all the way?

I'm sighing in frustration, waiting for the plane to come to a stop on the tarmac, so I can get off of this thing. It's been three days since I've been with my girl and I'm chomping at the bit, impatient to see her, smell her, hold her in my arms again. Man, she's got me hooked and there ain't a damn thing I want to do about it.

We've been together two and a half months, and that's pushing it, but those months have been the happiest time in my life. When I set my sights on Gwen, I didn't know if I would strike out right away and get relegated to the friend zone, or if she'd acknowledge the chemistry we had and give us a shot. What I for sure didn't expect was to fall so quickly and completely in love with her. 

Getting to know her better just revealed more of her lovable and animated personality, that I find ridiculously impossible to resist. And under that, there's been a hidden layer of insecurity, that she's tried her best to decorate and make passable all these years. That, along with the surprise of finding out just how normal and traditional she is as a woman, has been a shocking discovery for me. Who knew that such a glamorous badass just wanted to be held gently and treated like the princess that she is?

Finally.

The plane comes to a halt and the stairs disengage from the side of the jet, allowing me to get off, once I grab my bag. Gwen's SUV is parked off in the distance, and from where I stand, I see her straight blonde hair brushing her shoulders as the wind blows through it. As I approach her, we lock eyes, and I see a happy smile emerge on her lips. She waits until I've almost made my way completely across the stretch of space between us before she moves in my direction, arms outstretched, welcoming her cowboy home.

Neither of us says a word as I reach for her and pull her into a hug. My nose buries itself in her sweet-smelling hair and my hands almost fully circle her slight frame. We stand like this for a minute or so, until I'm positive that this isn't a dream. The woman lifting up her smile at me is gorgeous and talented and humble and amazing. And mine.

And I know the perfect way to let her know so, without uttering a single word.

 

"Byake!"

I'm surprised to see Apollo in his car seat, bouncing around and happy to see me when I open the passenger side door.

"Apollo! Hey li'l buddy!" I smile at him genuinely; how can I resist such a little ball of cuteness, even if he _is_ majorly cock blocking at this point.

"He threw up this morning and my poor baby wasn't feeling well." She lapses into her mommy talk, as she leans into the back to kiss his face. His tiny hands clasp onto her cheeks and he giggles as she kisses him on his mouth over and over. I wonder what I can do to get her to do that to me. "When kids are sick, they just want to be with their moms, so I didn't send him over with Zuma and King."

"Well, at least he's feeling better. I'd hate for him to still have an upset tummy." Glancing back at Apollo, he's got his pacifier - excuse me, his _chupi_ -in his mouth and he's as content as a pig in mud on a hot summer's day. Getting inside, she starts the engine and we take off for her house, where I'm spending the weekend.

I see Gwen smiling softly at me, her lips glistening with some kind of gloss or something as they touch. Long fingertips graze my jawline as she caresses the side of my face before turning back to the road. "Thank you for not being upset."

"You're a single mom with three boys, and sometimes things happen." I saw my mom struggle for years before she married my step-dad, and although Gwen's got way more resources at her disposal then my mom ever did, some experiences are the same, regardless of economic status. "There's no reason for me to get upset at you being an awesome mother. I'd be upset if you _weren't."_

"See," she points a long-tipped fingernail in my direction to accent her words. "This is why I love you so much. Most dudes would be upset that their party got, like, literally crashed by a sick kid."

"It was unexpected, but it is, what it is. I mean, he's got to go to sleep sometime, don't he?" Her loud outburst of laughter makes me smile at her in return. "So, I get to hang out with both of you today. A double scoop's always better than a single, if you ask me."

She flashes me what can only be described as a grateful smile, before she answers. "I honestly try to just give you small doses of us."

"Don't bother. I want you guys all at once; I can handle it." I'm not intimidated by the task of being a male figure in her kids' lives anymore. Sure, I might not always be the best at it - I know I've got some cleaning house to do - but I'll always support her and do what's best for them. I actually welcome the challenge and can't wait to take on more. I mean, I've always wanted kids.

"The other night, I think it was Thursday after I got back from New York, I was sitting on Kingston's bed tucking him in after his prayers. You know what he told me?" The excitement in her voice is contagious, and I place my arm on the back of her seat as she drives, turning my body slightly in her direction.

"What?"

"He was all like, 'Mom, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me.' Can you believe that?" I don't know why, but I get such a kick out of her mimicking the kids when they speak. Their voices, their body language; it's so freaking cute to me.

"So then, I was just like, you know, 'Aw sweetie, _you_ are the best thing that's ever happened to _me_. You and Zuma and Apollo.' Do you know what he said, _then_?" With a sweep of her hair behind her right ear, she looks at me, anticipating an answer.

I'm ready with a smile, knowing whatever it is, it's about to be good. "What did he say, honey?"

"He was just like, 'But what about Blake? Is he the best thing that's ever happened to you too?'" She looks at me with wonder in her eyes. "I mean, isn't that kid unbelievable?"

I'm beyond touched that her oldest would even ask such a question. He must recognize the difference in his mom, how her smile is bigger and how she's happier and more at peace. "What did you say?"

"I told him that you were best thing that's ever happened to me too, yeah: that you bring me so much joy. He kind of just accepted it and nodded his head, and I kissed him goodnight, and that was it." She smiles at the memory, her eyes seeking out some type of response as she studies my face.

That makes me feel like what I set out to do, I've accomplished. It's an amazing thing. I stroke her hair and ask, "How'd that make you feel?" 

"Like the happiest mom, y'know?" She emphasizes her words with her hands, now off from the steering wheel. "Like, even my _kid_ can see the difference in me; he knows how important you are in my life. That's like, so fuc-...freaking awesome, right?" She glances in the rear view mirror at Apollo, but the ride home has rocked him to sleep.

From our first interaction, even before my divorce, I knew this to be true: "Baby, you and me are magic."

 

Keeping my hands to myself is not something I'm good at when it comes to Gwen.  


As we eat a late lunch, there's a different feeling in the air. We work together, Gwen popping chicken nuggets and corn - all organic, of course - in the microwave for Apollo to have, and me grabbing his Honest juice from the fridge for him to drink. I intentionally walk behind her, my hands holding onto her hips, as I slide closer than necessary to pass her. She keeps looking up at me with those heavy-lidded eyes that make my heart pound behind my lungs. 

She and I prepare leftover pasta. I stand behind her, talking quietly to her, close enough so our bodies touch. I lean forward against her back, so that my hands are flat on the surface in front of us, basically caging her in between the counter and my body. Every time she reaches up to the cabinet to get a plate or a cup, my hand finds the bare flesh of her stomach revealed underneath the rise of her cut-off shirt. I kiss her nape, then the crook of her neck and watch as her eyes close reflexively when my tongue swipes up the delicate shell of her ear.

Gwen sits on my lap at the breakfast bar as we eat. She turns the bill of my trucker cap to the back, so she can see my face better, she says. I think it's just so it doesn't hit her in the forehead as she leans over to kiss me in between bites of butternut squash ravioli. Mid-kiss, Apollo starts giggling, and she turns her head, her lips still shaped by my mouth, leaning over to attend to him for a while. I take the opportunity to appreciate the curve of her ass with my hand and mark her bare arms with loving pecks. 

Surprisingly, she doesn't even pretend to be scandalized by my blatant attempts at feeling her up, and I don't know who's more turned on, her or me. Instead of a half-hearted "Blake, stop.", she tosses sexy smiles my way, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, her eyes flashing with heat. As she returns to sit on my lap again, she grabs my hand, pulling it securely around her waist. Her nails scratch up and down my arm and her full lips press a kiss to first, my temple, then, my mouth. I push my plate away; the ravioli is excellent, but my appetite craves the taste of her.

Sometime after lunch and before dinner, Gwen stands up suddenly saying, "Be right back; I've got to go to the bathroom." We've been on the floor playing with Apollo and his collection of awesome race cars and I don't even notice that she's come back into the room until she stands by my feet, clearing her throat. I look up and immediately, my heart skips a beat.

"Hey," leaving the toys behind, I get up, my eyes never leaving hers. "Look at you!"

She's gone and washed her face: no color on her lips, no stuff on her eyes, no fake lashes, no crap to make her brows darker or thicker. Just Gwen Stefani in the raw.

"So, you had like, mentioned one time that like, I didn't need to wear makeup like, all the time for your sake and so... I mean, this is me." She started off her statement, nervously, hands twisting in front of her, but she ends it with a take-it-or-leave-it resolve in her voice.

She's still anxious standing here, though, her eyes dancing around instead of meeting me straight on. "Yeah, I remember that conversation and I was right."

Finally making full eye contact, she lifts her chin and inhales a deep breath.

"You're beautiful." I can't help the smile that nearly splits my face. Her ex-husband is a damn fool.

She scoffs, "Well, at least now you can see all the imperfections and everything." She speaks as if she's presenting some bad news.

"What imperfections?"

Her fingers fly to her face, pointing out different areas as she makes a list. "Like, my skin tone is so uneven over here, and then once, this lady dyed my eyebrows and ended up burning this one almost completely off, so all there is now is this white scar. Hair will never grow back there again. And I've got this stupid bump that popped up a few years ago, out of the blue, and never went away. My lip's got a funny..."

I snatch her hand away, locking it in mine, and then lean down to kiss her offending lips. "What imperfections?" 

Those big brown eyes search my face, and I reach for her arms, pulling her body close. Taking my time, my lips find each fault she's pointed out, each imperfection that doesn't mean shit to me. I try to express how none of them even matter by kissing her: the stupid bump, the white scar, the spot of darker skin. My lips kiss every gorgeous inch of her face, and as I hold onto her, her hands reach for me, latching onto my sides. Her eyes close and I place kisses there too, on her bare lids, just as salty tears begin to fall. I kiss those, as well.

"You are _so_ beautiful," I tell her. I graze past her defined jawline and the slight bump on the bridge of her nose. My lips land on hers again, and I feel her fingers clench against my body as I kiss her, her fully naked face pressed against mine for the first time ever. 

"Whoever made you feel otherwise was blind and stupid and wrong." I brush away her tears and smooth down her eyebrows, run my finger down her nose and cup her cheeks. She's made herself so vulnerable to me, and I can be nothing but completely sincere with her, in return. "You've never looked lovelier." The smile that blooms on her face completes the picture.

 

It's way too early for Apollo to go to bed, but already past his nap time, so we spend the rest of the afternoon chasing him outside on the huge back lawn and watching Peppa Pig cartoons. We sit on the couch in the living room; I'm holding Gwen and she's holding Apollo. I come to enjoy her hair tickling my nose, as she leans down to kiss the loose curls that cover his scalp. She leans back in my embrace now, tucking her head under my chin as Daddy Pig decides to coach Peppa's basketball team. As we watch, my hands don't keep still, lightly stroking her arms or playing with her fingers. Every so often, she tilts her head back and smiles, studying my face. Stealing kisses from her soft lips becomes so distracting, that I lose the plot of the show. Now, I'll never know how effective Daddy Pig was at coaching Peppa and her friends.

The room grows dark and after dinner, Apollo becomes fussy and restless, a result of being overly-tired from a missed nap. "It's only 7:30, but I think he'll sleep through the night anyway. You want to help me get him ready for bed?"

"Let's do this!" Apollo gets to play in the bubble bath for a while, and I get to flirt with his mother. 

"So when I win 'The Voice' season 9, with Barrett or Zach or Emily Ann, how do you plan on helpin' me celebrate?"

"When _you_ win? Yo, Jeffrey Austin is winning this season; finally, a girl coach has got this!." She's strutting around the boys' bathroom smiling confidently, as if the votes have already been counted.

"Who are we kiddin' though. We both know Jordan is gonna win this thing here, and Adam is gonna love rubbin' it in my face, dammit."

"Well, you can give up hope, but I'm not." As she glances in the mirror at herself, I pull her into my arms, missing the feel of her against me. "You're probably right though. Jeffrey's definitely getting runner-up then."

"Not on your life; are you shittin' me?" I spare a peek towards Apollo, but he's too busy enjoying dumping water out of a bucket to care about me and my filthy mouth. "Either Barrett or Emily Ann is gettin' that second spot. Do you know how many inquiries I've had about her? It's been nuts."

"No way, you're _wrong_!" Her nail stabs me in my arm. "Let's make a bet, let's like, wager something, you know what I mean?"

"Fine. If I get runner-up, you've got to do a sexy striptease, lap dance thing for me." I've seen some of her moves on YouTube videos. If she can circle her hips like that on stage in front of thousands, surely she can serve me up some fries with that shake.

"Are you _serious_ right now! You're talking to a girl that stumbles over the word 'boyfriend' in interviews. How am I going to be giving lap dances?" Man, she's right. And just like that, my dreams are dashed.

"But that's the thing though. You're so sure you've got the runner-up slot for Jeffrey, so it shouldn't even matter what the dare is."

"Okay, yeah true." She nods her head and concedes the point. "But I don't know what to dare you, since I'm pretty sure you'd do any stupid or disgusting thing that I'd ask you to do."

"You're damn skippy." I've jumped off barn roofs, eaten raw meat, set my farts on fire, and a ton of other stuff, all in the name of a bet.

"So, how about this. If I get runner-up...you've got to buy me a horse when we get to Tish." She's smiling, grabbing my hand and bouncing excitedly as the thought comes to her. 

"A horse?" That's actually not a bad idea. "You don't know how to ride a horse, OC girl." I look her up and down as if I'm judging her. I'm really not, though.

"Uh huh! Yes I do! I've got like, a video and everything."

"I don't know about that. I don't want you to break your pretty little neck trying to prove me wrong." My hand brushes down the side of her face, and I plant a few kisses along the adorable freckles that dot her nose and cheeks. I never knew she had freckles.

"I mean, if you haven't invested your money wisely enough to be able to afford buying me a horse, that's cool too, but..." Now, she's just mocking me, as she steps backwards, hands in the air, palms facing me, calling my bluff.

"Hold up now, I'll get you your damn horse _if_ you get runner up, but that's a pretty big if." 

"Yeah, and like, that's because you and your 15 million Twitter Country Mafia crew make it hard for anyone else to get a vote in." Fists punch me playfully in the chest and arms. She's not mad, but what she _is_ , is right. About the Twitter followers, not the Country Mafia shit. 

It's not my fault that I'm popular. "Look, don't hate the player, sister; hate the game. Okay?"

"'Don't hate the player?'" She repeats my statement in disbelief and dissolves into surprised laughter. "Oh my god!"

 

 

Apollo wants me to tuck him in, not his mom. I'm more than happy to do the honors, and lay him in his big boy bed and listen while he says prayers for everyone he has _ever_ met, in his almost two years of living. Apparently, he knows a lot of people, and it's really a long prayer. Gwen stands at the door, hands in her front pockets smiling to herself, and I turn her way, signaling for help in wrapping this thing up. She shakes her head no and gives me the 'hush' signal. I guess this is par for the course for good ole Apollo.

This kid actually drifts off midway through the prayer. Smack dab in the middle of praying for someone whose name starts with Al-, he nods off. Gwen steps into the room now, taking me by the hand, and leading me out quietly behind her through the maze of books and toys littered around.

"That child is as long-winded as a death row inmate making his last phone call." We walk down the lengthy hallway towards the master bedroom. Apollo's bedroom and bathroom is the only other one on this side of the house.

She squeezes my hand, chuckling under her breath. "That was actually shorter than usual."

My eyebrows climb into my hairline; did she just say 'shorter than usual'? "I thought it would never end." 

She stops right in front of her open bedroom door and faces me. "End? It has yet to begin."

"You're damn right about that." 

A rush of something spreads through me and all of the sudden, waiting another minute to make love to this woman becomes the biggest waste of time. I back her into the wall, right outside her door, towering over her barefoot form. My internal temperature ratchets up to something almost unbearably hot as she places her hands on my chest, fisting my shirt to draw me flush against her body. Her lips are parted, drawing in air, and right before I take them I ask:

"Any final words you wanna share?"

Nodding her head yes, she looks into my eyes and snakes an arm around my neck. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

That's music to my ears, and my lips crush hers in response. Her soft skin calls to me, and my hands sneak up under the cropped top to slide around from her stomach to her back, molding the warm flesh beneath my hands as I go. As I noticed earlier during lunch, she hasn't been wearing a bra and I enjoy the crush of her breasts against my chest, soft and unrestricted. Needing to take her into the room, I bend down and scoop her up behind the knees, carrying her inside; I don't want to risk breaking our kiss. I kick the door shut behind us with my foot and cross the sizeable room in a few steps, before following her body down, as I lay it on her bed.

You only get one chance to for a first time, and I'm determined to do this the right way, despite the pounding of my heart in my chest and the racing of my blood through my veins. I nestle myself between her jean-covered thighs, not caring that my erection is probably tearing a hole through my pants. Starting at one side, I take my time using my mouth to explore her smooth face and graceful neck from left to right. My hands can't keep still, cupping her underneath her shirt, thumb and index finger teasing the plump buds they find waiting there. Her hips roll gently underneath mine, driving me crazy with the up and down movement. I hurriedly move away, down lower on her body, so that my mouth aligns with her chest; I can't embarrass myself, tonight of all nights.

Lifting her shirt up to her collarbone, I take a pale pink nipple between my teeth, lightly holding it there while my tongue bathes it in a circular motion. Gwen's sharp gasp is followed up by the sweetest, softest moan. My eyes rise to watch her face and I'm pleased to see her eyes closed, breath coming rapidly from her open mouth as my lips close around the peak to suckle her. Her back arches up into me and she looks down, watching me as I move to the other side, loving her in the same way.

"We gotta get rid of this," I grumble, indicating the top bunched up around her neck, that blocks a full view of her. "Matter of fact..." My hands work the zipper and button of her fly, and I kiss the silky skin revealed as I pull her pants down and off: stomach, hips, thighs and legs, in that order. All my attempts at moving slowly are derailed; the tiny panties she's wearing come off in a flash, the scent of her arousal teasing me as she bends her knees to assist with their removal. 

"Your turn," she says, after which I'm dragged down to her mouth once more. The urgency of her kisses blind me; I swear I can't do anything else but use my hands to discover the peaks and valleys of her figure, and listen to the sounds rumbling in her chest as she moans and sighs beneath me. 

Expertly, her fingers unbutton my favorite plaid shirt, and I help her remove it, along with the rough blue jeans, now two sizes too big since my divorce. My underwear comes next and I have to engage in quite a bit of self-talk to stop myself from sliding up into her right then and there. Instead, I follow my nose down to the fragrant warmth between her legs. 

My hands push at her knees, spreading them wide open and without preamble, no teasing or hesitancy, my mouth opens up completely on her. It's been at least a week since I had the chance to taste her like this, and I'm hungry for the spicy sweetness of her pussy. My tongue finds her clit right away, and she uses one hand to clutch at my hair, the other to clutch at the bed sheet underneath her, as I stroke it repeatedly, bottom to top. Her cries go from soft whimpers to louder moans; they only serve to make me more eager to please her.

"Blake...baby, no more. Stop. I want to come with you inside of me."

Her words emerge in between gasps, but I don't want to take my mouth away from her. I love her taste, her scent; this is the most selfless way I know of to pleasure her. But after a few more moments, she finally succeeds in twisting her hips away from me, and with her breathing ragged in my ears, I move on top of her. My brain shuts down and my dick takes over, the shaft gliding back and forth across her wet lips without ever going inside. It's bliss; its agony. Suddenly, it occurs to me that we haven't ever talked about protection of any kind, and my hips freeze, mid-slide.

"No. No condoms." She feels my hesitancy and addresses it precisely. Her nails skate lightly up my back and I feel my pulse increase as she spreads her thighs further.

I can't wait another minute. 

Kissing her beautiful mouth, crazy in the feel of her tongue rasping against mine, I grab her hands, intertwining our fingers as I raise them above her head and angle them on the pillow that cradles her. Slowly, I press the head of my dick inside of her, waiting in between thrusts to let her adjust to my size. It's been a while for us both, and I know that my thickness and length can take some getting used to. And she's so wet, and so tight; I'm literally shaking, using all the control I have trying not to blow this. Beneath me, she whimpers, her head thrown back, her hands squeezing onto mine for dear life. The more I ease in, the more I feel her soft walls give in, relaxing around me before gripping me tightly again.

Sweet torture. I'm almost there. 

One last time, I pull out and manage to gruffly order, "Open your eyes, baby girl." I want her to be sure of who's making love to her, this time and from now on. With a bit of struggle, she does so - her eyes glazed and unfocused as they meet mine - and in one unbroken motion, she takes me all the way inside, her lips sucking in a deep breath as her moist heat welcomes me home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my best friend, Al-...HotlineBling
> 
> Don't worry guys; it doesn't end here. Wink!


	30. G's Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the party's started, is there anything that can stop Gwen and Blake?

I can't catch my breath.

Blake is buried so deep inside of me and I don't think I've ever been filled this completely before. I feel my walls stretching around him, working to accommodate his size. Nerve endings I never even knew I had, are being stimulated by him so huge inside of me, and he hasn't even moved, yet. Even if he stayed still, his dick right where it is, I would enjoy this moment more than any other sexual experience I've ever had. My body is pulsing around him, in some pleasurable tandem with the racing of my heart and I can almost guarantee that once he starts to move, it'll only take two seconds for me to explode. 

He wants me to meet his eyes, but the intense emotion that I see reflected there makes me want to cry. His face is so tender, so loving and open; no one has ever looked at me like this before. Sky blue eyes now look almost navy, as he struggles to stay still, waiting to make sure I'm with him before he continues. My stomach feels hollow, and every inch of my body is tuned in to the pleasure that's already radiating between my legs. Combined, it's almost too much to bear.

His head lowers to whisper near my ear, "Baby...breathe." I've been gasping for air, short gulping breaths as I cling tightly to his hands, and I consciously try to exhale slowly before inhaling again. Involuntarily, the next sound I make is a low-pitched moan; somehow I sense him growing inside of me and I'm going insane with how good it feels. It's like I've lost control of myself, and it's only been the first stroke.

Blake pulls out again with such aching slowness I think I might die. "Am I hurting you?" He releases my hands to hold onto my hips. "Gwen..baby girl, answer me." 

His voice is ragged and on edge; he sounds exactly like how I feel. He's concerned, but not trusting my voice, I shake my head side to side to answer. Ready for more, my hips rise up towards him; I need to feel him again and use my muscles to begin drawing him back inside of me. He groans out a curse, and slides through my wetness, pushing into me. I don't want to talk, I just want him to do more of what he's started to do to me.

He grasps my hips more securely, beginning a slow and sexy grind as he kisses me. I knew it; telltale shivers spread across my body and suddenly, my nipples are crazy sensitive. Dead giveaways. I'm almost embarrassed to be coming so soon.

"Oh god." 

My words break on a moan and my nails dig into his upper arms as he continues his steady, but deliberate pace, drawing my pleasure out of me as sure as if we'd been together like this for years. The base of his penis hits me squarely on my clit, and just that fast, it's over. Dissolving into pieces, I cry out his name, more loudly than I should, with the baby at home. No, I didn't want to have an orgasm this early into the night, but it feels so good that I'm okay with the fact that I'm already finished. 

Or maybe not.

Blake's warm breath sweeps across my face. His mouth was made for mine, I swear; his kisses never ceasing to send cascades of good feelings. across my body. "You're so fuckin' sexy, especially when you come," he whispers against my lips and my insides tighten up in response to him. 

I'm amazed to feel a rush of moisture reemerge around him, and I can hear the sexy squish of his dick pumping through my wetness and it turns me on even more. My hands are non-stop now. I run my finger up through the back of his hair, and pull his hips in closer to mine. I wrap my arms around his neck as he switches to shorter pumps. This feels so fucking good and I bring my knees to my chest, attempting to maximize on it. There are fresh stirrings inside of me, and my breath quickens again.

His lips leave mine to focus on my breasts. He sucks lightly on my nipples, pulling on them in the same rhythm as the bouncing of his hips moving in and out of me. The dual sensation it creates is like no other; together, it feels like my body is being tag-teamed with pleasure and I'm helpless to fight it. 

Moving underneath my legs now, his arms lift my lower half, angling my hips upward more towards him for a deeper plunge. The smooth, long strokes that I've been slowly losing my mind over, become shorter and more powerful. The head of his dick hits somewhere deep inside of me, that makes my legs quake each time they come into contact. Flying up to cover my mouth, my hand does little to disguise the loud wail that comes out. This is a new sensation, some awfully wonderful spot that has me ready to climb walls because it feels so good when his huge erection collides with it. My body becomes so limp and loose; I feel as if I'm falling apart around him. All I hear is his breath stuttering in my ear and the cries escaping my mouth as my body rises and plummets, shattering again, in the safety of his arms. Dear God, he holds me so tight, whispering sweetly to me as I find my release. My orgasm stretches on for an eternity, his pumping action relentless, and it wrings me until I'm limp. Just as I'm floating down, his jerky hip movements and low continuous groan signal his own completion, and I cradle his head to my chest, my insides leaping with a fierce tenderness for this man who's loved me so thoroughly.

A heavy sigh leaves my chest, the air parting the damp curls that brush my chin as he regains himself. His breath skitters past my left breast and his lips follow it up with a kiss right there, on my heart. No one could ever fault me for the tears that leak now from my eyes.

 

He's staring at me calmly, reverently almost. Cradled in his arms, smiling softly at him, I've completely forgotten that I'm bare faced; he's looking at me like he always does and I don't feel an ounce of anything but his love and desire for me.

"On the one hand I feel naked, like I do when my nails aren't polished, or my underwear doesn't match. But on the other hand, you keep looking at me like I'm a diamond...or a bottle of vodka." He grins at the reference to alcohol. "It's like the weirdest thing ever."

"The fact that you don't even know what you look like blows me away. You're so fuckin' hot when you're made up; you look _amazing_ , but not many people get to see this side of you. I love the freckles all across your nose and cheeks, and your poor lil scarred eyebrow, this tiny bump here...I love your face." I melt even more into him as his hand cups the side of my face, his thumb smoothing back and forth along my lip and cheek. 

"Oh god, now I _know_ you're messing with me." I try to play it off, hoping that that's not the case.

"You know I don't lie to you." He kisses me then, his soft lips warmly opening on top of mine, the tip of his tongue inviting mine to come play. His thumb traces my jawline and I shudder. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" His breath blows hot across my lips.

Wanting as much contact as possible, I hold onto his wrist as it lays against my face. "Yeah, of course."

He looks away, then sighs dramatically, running a hand over his bearded face. "I have to fart, really bad, and I'm not sure how much it's gonna stink."

"What? Oh no! Don't!" Giggles spill from my mouth at this abrupt change of subject and I try to roll over to the other side of the bed, but his hands find me before I get too far.

Laughingly, he pulls the covers over my head, trapping me inside, but thank God he's just being playful. Under the sheets and blanket, he lightly rests his body on top of me. Feeling his bare skin touching mine is the most erotic thing ever, and I bite my lip to bring some reality back into the daydreamy atmosphere that surrounds us. The hairs on his chest and thighs tickles my smooth skin and once again I'm amazed at the journey that's brought us here tonight.

It's his deep country drawl, his softly uttered words, that heighten my current dizzying state of arousal, "You'd have no way of knowin' this, but everything about you makes my heart race inside my chest." In the darkness I can't see his eyes, only feel him: his breath, his skin, his penis hardening again on my thigh. _"Everything."_

His lips go to the delicate flesh of my throat, and his tongue tastes me there, loving licks against the sensitive area. Around the base of my neck, his mouth explores and I feel the lightweight chain of my crucifix as it digs softly into my flesh. This can't be real; my body is softening, opening, readying for him once more, and boldly my fingers reach down for him, finding him rock hard. Moving his hips away to make a small space between our bodies, his kiss travels up my neck to my mouth. I use both hands to stroke his dick; he feels like silk-covered steel and my fingers can't get their fill of touching him. One long red nail teases against the sensitive glands hanging beneath where my hands massage him, and he enjoys it so much that his lips stutter on mine each time I do it. Over and over, his dick pulses wildly in my hands, and the answering tightening of my pussy indicates that I'm ready again.

"No more foreplay; I can't take anymore." Any other time I'd be embarrassed at the jerky breathy sound to my voice. Not tonight. He ignores me, his mouth closing in on my hardened nipple. "Blake, _please_."

Without anymore hesitation, my legs are spread wide by his hands, and as he throws off the covers, he penetrates me fully in one long stroke. I'm so wet that it sounds as if his dick is stirring a big pot of soup, and the idea makes me chuckle to myself, resulting in a pleasurable clamping down on him as he moves inside of me. 

Strong arms come up underneath my shoulders, holding my body captive, and my moan is triggered by the forceful pumping of his hips as they slam against mine. They begin a slow cadence, only accelerating minutes later when my own movements begin to work in counter to his. Our hips retreat, only to advance towards each other once again, the slickness of my pussy making the glide all the more easy, all the more incredible. We continue this way, the push and pull of our lovemaking leaving me frantic with the search for release. Harsh breath rushes past my ears and my hands clasp at his sweaty back, as his groans arrive closer and closer, like the most fabulously pleasurable contractions. 

Blake's rough hands drop to my hips and he begins to pummel my body faster. A moan sticks in my throat; he's hitting all of my favorite spots, again. Caught off guard by the intensity, the choked moan breaks loose from my throat as a loud scream. My climax hits me, shaking me, made all the more wonderful by the non-stop rubbing of his impressively sized dick hitting me deep inside. 

_"Fuck!"_

He roars as he comes inside of me. Hot warmth floods my body, and I get an extra thrill at the intimacy of the feeling. My mouth searches for his, needing to feel him loving me again. I've been lonely too long and my hands cling to him desperately, never wanting to be without him. I'm overwhelmed by emotion, and the only thing I can think of to say as I press my forehead to his, is, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Sometime later, after we kiss a lot and cuddle some more, after he tells me that I'm a beautiful sweaty mess and I tell him that he needs to roll over to the wet spot, we drift off to sleep. 

I've never loved a man the way I love him, and I know I never will again.

 

 

It's the beginning of December and this is the first time I've had sex all year; we've done it three times in one night. All I can remember about the most recent time, is how he put my legs up on his shoulders, and how my hands had to push against the white leather headboard behind me, so I wouldn't bump into as I lost control. I've come so many times tonight that I think my body has literally gone into shock. We sleep closer and closer to the edge of the bed; the mattress has become one huge wet spot.

Blake and I stir at the same time. Almost 8:30 and there's no real reason for us to be up yet, other than the anticipation of another round of sex. Fucking. Lovemaking. Whatever it's called, we've done it all, and done it well.

After we spend many long moments kissing, I drag us into the shower. Morning breath isn't an issue, but I need to get clean and change my sheets so we can do it again.

The hot water streams against our bodies; he's holding me to him, his back to the spray, his hands on my ass as we make out some more. He's my dream come true, in so many ways, but god, how he kisses me - with such focus, such intensity, such affection - makes my knees give out, even now, even after everything else we've done.

Backed against the marble wall now, the cold surface is a stark contrast to the steam of the shower and the heat emanating between our two bodies. My arms clasp around his neck and he assists me in locking my legs around his hips in the same fashion. His dick, always huge and ready, slides in, but there's no way this is going to happen for us right now. Beyond sore, my eyes fly open in panic and my palm pushes his body away.

"Shit! Did I hurt you, sweetheart?" He's pulling out, but still supporting my weight in his hands.

"I haven't seen this much action in over a year." I laugh it off, but am still pissed; I'm so horny.

He pushes his dark wet hair back from his forehead. The water dripping off his shoulders and down his chest makes me jealous; I want to be that close to him too. "C'mere, baby; I got what you need." 

He puts me on my feet and kneels in front of me, taking my Kiehl's grapefruit body wash and pouring it liberally into his huge hands.

"That stuff's not cheap, Blake Shelton, just so you know." I push back on his forehead and try to make light of the moment, despite the fact that seeing him like this in front of me, is doing funny things to my heart. 

"If this is why you always smell so good, I'll buy you a year's supply, if that's what you want." At his eye level, my stomach becomes the spot where his lips love me, for the moment.

He rubs his hands together and then begins to rub them all over me. Up my arms, down my sides, lovingly over each of my breasts and intimately between my legs. He pays total attention to the task at hand, working quickly, yet thoroughly, and making me dizzy with the gentle friction of his touch. This does nothing to lessen the tension between us, the sizzle that skates along my skin like a current.

He pivots, pulling me in front of him, allowing the water to run the suds off of my body. Pushing the spray out of my eyes, I gasp at the feel of his hot mouth, open and hungry on my ass cheek. Teeth dig into me; I arch my back and reach for the smooth wall beside me; I've got to hold onto something before I crumble. My body is one huge goosebump in his hands.

He spreads me apart, my legs each moved slightly to an opposite side. His long tongue reaches inside of my pussy, wet not only from the shower head near me. It circles the opening, teasing me, before sliding in and out, a reasonably good imitation of what his dick's been doing to me all night. Busy hands roam up the front of my body, one rising to pluck my hard nipple and the other one left clutching at my stomach, pressing me further into his hot mouth.

His tongue goes flat against my pink flesh, in between those lips. He alternates between a steady glide back and forth, and long sweeps of the soft, moist flesh that welcomes him. It's a crazy combination and I could stay like this forever, if it weren't for the buckling of my legs, overwhelmed with the pressure to stand underneath such pleasure. 

He's totally in tune with me. Handling my body skillfully, he adjusts my position so my back is again touching the wall. Moving in close, he lifts my long legs onto his strong shoulders. I look down and want to die as his tongue takes a long lick of me. I can't look away. I don't want to look away. He knows I'm watching, he feels my sudden stillness and he taunts me even more. Hands on my behind push me towards him, and then one reaches around to spread me open for his exploring mouth. In the past, I've always balked at the term "eating out", but there are literally no better words for what's going down right now. 

"Ohmygod," my words stumble out of my mouth, clumsy in my buzzed condition. "What are you _doing_ to me?" His appetite is ravenous and my body can take no more. Crying out, I freeze, then unfurl, sobbing out my pleasure.

I hold on tight, fingers scraping his soaked scalp as I vibrate beneath his wandering tongue. He doesn't let up; the whole time I'm dying in his arms, his tongue continues the onslaught. The overlapping sensation hits me hard and I come again, feeling exhausted, wondering at the whimpers and moans that I hear myself make in the back of my head.

The scruff of his wet beard on my inner thigh brings me back down from whatever blissful place I've gone to. Again. 

"You're my favorite flavor. God, I could eat your sweet pussy all day." His kisses along my body as he stands make me jump and squirm. My body is like one big nerve ending now and his arms go around me, settling me down with my head on his chest, as the water beats, still hot, against us.

Sexing Blake is officially my new favorite hobby.

 

Apollo is already up, sucking on his chupi and playing with his cars by the time Blake and I can keep our hands to ourselves long enough to actually get dressed. I grab my baby boy and give him the biggest hugs and kisses, happy to see his sweet face, happy to have the hugest smile on my own.

Once he spots Blake behind me, it's all over though. He scrambles down and drops his pacifier in a rush to go see him.

"Hi Byake! Hi!" My hot cowboy crouches down low to be eye level with my youngest, and Apollo places both hands on Blake's face as he beams brightly at him. There are no words that describe how awesome it is to see them bonding.

"Hey Apollo, good mornin'. You ready to go get somethin' to eat?"

"Apoyo is hungry!"

"Blake is hungry too, let's go." Apollo tugs on one of Blake's fingers and Blake secures his hand with mine, as we walk towards the kitchen.

I get lost in my thoughts, on the verge of tears watching Blake pour cereal for Apollo and interacting with him so genuinely. Yeah, I'm always emotional, my feelings bubbling up at the surface, but it's so much more than that. How do I tell him that he's stopped me from thinking about all my mistakes from yesterday and got me excited to be here, with him in this moment? What's the best way to tell him that I've always wondered what it felt like to be loved, without condition, without fear? He's given me so much of himself in the past months, more than I could've ever asked for or expected. For the first time, I haven't had to _prove_ my worth to anyone; I've just had to _find_ it again, for myself. I've done that in my songwriting, in my talks with God, and in my relationship with Blake.

My eyes return to my boys, locking with Blake. He's probably been staring at me this whole time that I've been off in la la land, because his eyes don't flicker once when I look at him. Damn, he looks so good, his curly, product-free hair still damp from our shower. He's wearing some plaid blue shirt that makes his eyes shine. Or maybe they're shining just because he's looking at me. The thought makes me smile.

Walking over to the island where he's sitting, my upper body leans over on it, my eyes never wavering. "It's like the funniest thing; I can't stop smiling when I look at you."

"You know how much I love seeing you smile, but I love it even more when I'm the reason behind it." He guides me by my chin, his face closing in on me from the other side, and kisses me so long and so sweet, even Apollo can't help but cheer. "I love you, Gwen."

"Mommy kiss Byake!"

We're interrupted by a phone ringing. Actually, it's my doorbell, but I think it's pretty rad that it sounds like an old-school telephone.

Clapping his hands excitedly, Apollo screams out, "Daddy come for Apoyo!"

What? "Oh shit!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a day late; Shefani overload! Download and stream "Make Me Like You" and "Misery" by Gwen and "Came Here to Forget" by Blake!
> 
> Will post again tomorrow night, I pray.
> 
> Thank you HotlineBling. You gave me a GREAT idea.


	31. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's coming for breakfast? How will Blake have to exercise control throughout this day?

"Oh shit?" Already, I'm not liking this.

Gwen looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck, frozen still and seeing her life flash before her eyes, knowing that the shit is about to hit the fan. Literally.

"Blake, _please_ just like, stay in here and let me take care of this, okay? The less of a fuss, the better." She walks over to stand directly in front of me, both hands placed against my chest. Her right hand pats me anxiously as she talks, and she's failing at trying to hide the fact that she's freaking out.

No, I'm not liking this one bit.

"Fine, Gwen, I'll stay in here, but the moment I hear something I don't like..." My voice trails off on the threat. I've never been in a fight in my whole 39 years of life, other than the tussling matches I'd get into with my brother Richie, but I will shove my size 13 cowboy boots so far up Gavin's ass that he'll be shitting wax and pissing leather for the rest of his life. Oh but wait, he might actually like that. 

"Baby, it'll be fine." The doorbell rings again, impatiently three or four times, and she turns to go answer the door before thinking better of it and turning back to me once again. Her hand lands near my ear as she stretches up to kiss me. "I love you, y'know." The significance isn't lost on me. She's no longer his beck and call girl. 

Now, she's _mine._

I hear the front door open and close and the loud voices of two boys as they crash into the room. As tempted as I am to go stand in the doorway to the kitchen, making my presence immediately known, I promised I wouldn't instigate anything. Fine, I'll stay right here, but my ears are going to be tuned in to this conversation.

"Hey mom! Where's Apollo?" That's Kingston.

"We're goin' to the park with Chewy!" And that's Zuma.

Running feet head my direction, and I know in my gut that Gwen doesn't want the boys to draw attention to the fact that I'm here. It's too late though, because they're yelling out my name and coming up to greet me before I can do anything about it, not that I would've anyway. King gives me a hug, reaching form my Ten Point Ranch cap, and Zuma stands right by my side, waiting for me to acknowledge him in our usual way: a tousle of his hair and a "hey buddy". 

Gwen's right behind them, and Gavin's behind her. She doesn't meet my eyes as she travels the long way around the island to pull Apollo out of his high chair. Gavin pulls up short when he sees me, leaned back against the surface behind me, arms folded, eyes squarely on him.

"Ah, so we meet again, eh? How's it been, um ..." He jabs a finger through the air at me as he pretends to think. "Blake, right? Well, I guess we _all_ know how it's been." He looks pointedly at Gwen, who looks as if she'd rather be anywhere but here right now. Turning back to me he continues, "Unfortunately for you, that's as good as it gets."

"Kingston, Zuma..." my voice holds steady, despite my rage and with much effort I pull my eyes from the British asshole stinking up the room and look at the boys as they stand amazed, watching us.

He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, now I'm gonna have to shut it for him. "Why don't y'all go 'head and take Apollo to get his teeth brushed and changed into some clothes, so he can be ready to go out, too. When you're done, just find somethin' to watch on the TV."

"These are _my_ boys, and they're not going bloody anywhere unless I tell them to." His face sports a smarmy smile that makes me want to knock all of his teeth out, but I exercise self-control.

"Baby..." Both the jackass and I turn to look at her, but her eyes are dead on me. "I'll just take them myself." Pleading with me to not go overboard, her eyes dart away to Gavin's face quickly, before returning to mine. "C'mon boys."

As they follow Gwen through the kitchen, Kingston turns to study my face one last time. "Everything's gonna be alright, buddy." I try to reassure him, as Zuma grabs a granola bar on the way out.

Waiting a couple of beats so I'm sure they've made it far enough away from us, I modulate my voice to be firm, but quiet. I'm not trying to instigate trouble, but I'm not afraid to go there with him, if that's what he wants. I just gotta remember the bigger picture here. Making steady eye contact, I begin:

"Now look here, we can get into a pissin' match, if that's what you'd like, but I _really_ don't think that's what you want to do at this point. So let's get somethin' straight from the giddy up; you're someone that I'm never gonna be, and that's those boys' father, but I'm someone that _you'll_ never be either, and that's the man who loves and takes care of Gwen for the rest of her life, or as long as she'll let me. You stay in your lane and respect my role, and I'll stay in my lane and respect yours. But don't you ever fix your fuckin' mouth to disrespect or disregard those boys' mother in front of them, or me, or her, for that matter, ever again, or so help you God."

"Lasso it in, _cowboy_ ," he laughs, saying 'cowboy' with disgust. "Can't you take a joke?"

"I mean, yeah, I'm standing right here lookin' at one." I shake my head, mad at myself for not letting that one go. I'm trying to make peace, not make an enemy. Let me start again.

"Look, you love your kids, and I love your kids' mom. For the boys' sake, let's just keep this cool. We've all made our beds, and we all have to lie in 'em, for better," I gesture between myself and the general area where Gwen and the boys are, "or for worse," at this, my hand stretches out in front of him.

In a sign of retreat, he throws his hands up in the air, and backs away. "'Keep cool?' I can do one better; I can pretend you don't even exist."

At some point, I hope for more than just this; I'm here to stay and he's not going to be able to ignore my existence forever. It'd be so much better, so much easier for everyone involved, if we established something more amicable. But for the moment, "That works too...for now." 

"Well, _cowboy,_ I've enjoyed our little chat... really, I have; now if you'll excuse me?" His eyebrows rise on his heavily tanned face, his thumb hitching backwards to where I can hear the boys bickering over who gets to sit in the front seat of their dad's car.

"'Til next time." 

I have a sinking feeling that things are going to get worse, before they get better.

 

 

"What did you ever see in that guy, in the first place?"

The four Rossdales had left a few minutes earlier. I'd followed Gavin out of the kitchen and into the living room, draping my arm comfortably around Gwen's shoulder at the door, as the boys hugged her and high-fived me their goodbyes. Now that the boundaries had been established, I was going to defend them at all costs.

We walk towards the kitchen to clean up from breakfast; I load the dishwasher and she cleans off the island, placing things where they belong. Turning to face me, she shrugs. "Gavin was a hot guy who took an interest in me. I was never the like, pretty popular girl, and so it was flattering, all his attention was flattering, and I fell so hard. I just remember the guys - Tony and Tom and Adrian - they didn't want me to date him, but I blew them off. He wasn't always a total asshole, I mean he could be really cool and really deep. When I was with him, at least in the beginning, it was like, I was so excited just to be seen with him, let alone to be his girl. I knew he could've had anyone he wanted, and that ended up being the problem: he _did._ "

"So the insecure girl gets picked by the hot guy, then the hot guy turns out to be a prick who makes the insecure girl, even _more_ insecure." Age-old story, but this time it's personal. 

Done with the chores, she comes to where I'm sitting up on the countertop. Standing in between my open legs, she rubs her hands up and down my thighs distractedly as her head falls slightly back to look up at me.

She nods at my summary. "Yup, pretty much. It was all so _damaging_ , you know, to my confidence. He'd say he was coming to pick me up in an hour, but would, like, never show. The next day I'd hear about him being at some party with some other girl. There'd be like, stretches of days at a time, _literally,_ where I wouldn't hear from him, even after we were married. He'd always make remarks like, 'look at the tits on that chick; you'd look better if you had some like those', always telling me how I didn't stack up to other women. I'd try to be what he wanted: wearing red lipstick more, glamming my everyday style up, turning down opportunities to do some super exciting things in my career, but it was never good enough. It was like, 'wow, there's never any, like, _pleasing_ you is there?' And there never was. I was never home enough, never good enough, never sexy enough, never intelligent enough..."

Venting my anger for that sonofabitch earlier, gives me room to focus my response entirely on her. "And yet you've built up this hugely successful empire of fashion and music and makeup by yourself, you're on television, you're on the radio, you've got three awesome boys; you're obviously way more amazing and sexy and intelligent than either of you gave you credit for."

Her scoff comes out as a laugh, as she punches my thigh jokingly. "You don't have to butter me up anymore, cowboy, I'm still gonna sleep with you." She drops her head and continues to chuckle quietly to herself.

Damn. I know that's her hurt and insecurity speaking, but it still feels like a slap in the face. There's no way she can truthfully believe the implication behind those words. "The fact that you don't even recognize that I just gave you a sincere compliment, just crushes me."

Her eyes rush to my face. "I'm sorry." Her bottom lip trembles as she tries to prevent sudden tears in her eyes from spilling over. "I guess I'm still not, like, totally used to all this, yet. All this sweetness, all this affection. Sometimes, I just don't know what to say, y'know?"

"Let me help you, honey; all you gotta say is 'thank you'." My hand cups the side of her sweet face. Her eyes are so openly loving, that I want to erase every second of loneliness and brokenness she ever experienced because of her ex-husband. If I could, I would.

A watery smile plays at her soft pink lips. "Thank you..." She closes her eyes, unable to finish her thought as the tears come streaming down. Leaning down, my lips brush kisses onto her eyelids, still free of the usual colors that decorates them. Opening her eyes, she tilts her head up so our mouths almost meet.

"...for everything."

 

"You should've heard him, Danilo."

The three of us are in Gwen's huge bathroom, and she's recounting the earlier events of the day. Danilo stopped over to "install some extensions" for Gwen's "Platinum Pocahontas" look for tomorrow's filming. I swear, I add new words, or new _meanings_ for old words, to my vocabulary on a regular basis, being around Gwen and her team. 

Based on the voice she's using, I sound like a mix of a rapper from South Central and a cowboy from Oklahoma. Something like Nelly, I guess. "Blake was all like, 'Yeah, you're the kids dad, and that's cool, but I love Gwen and I'm gonna be in her life, and like, don't you ever disrespect her again.'" She covers her mouth as she yells out in laughter. I'm really enjoying her version of this story.

"Then, Gavin says something like, lame or whatever, and Blake's basically like, 'Don't start none, won't be none.' It was so awesome; Blake's my cowboy _and_ my hero." Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me. I've never had a woman make me feel even taller than what I actually am; with Gwen, it happens almost everyday. She's gonna end up making my head bigger than the watermelon it already is.

"Honestly, I was kinda calling myself speaking quietly. I didn't want to upset the boys." After they left the kitchen, I worked real hard on maintaining my cool, as hard as that was. "But wait, weren't you down the hall with them?"

A smile hums across her face as Danilo adjusts the seat she's sitting in. "I mean, yeah, I was, but then I had to like, sneak back down to see what was going on. I didn't know if you two were going to come to blows and get blood all over my kitchen or what." 

I could've taken him, no doubt about it, but that's definitely not the kind of role model I want to be for the kids. But man, my fists have never itched for a fight more than they have in the past few months. "Like I always say, 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.'"

A sexy little chuckle echoes, bouncing around the marble walls; her voice sounds like I've just slid inside of her warmth. "Oh yeah, you are." 

"Whoa!"

"Hey now!"

Danilo and I react at the same time, while unashamed laughter spills from Gwen's lips. 

"Girlfriend has just come undone." He addresses me specifically first, before remarking in general. "I've never seen you like this before: so giddy and glowing, obviously with no makeup to take responsibility for said glow. I'm loving this new Gwen, and this country-rock-pop crossover thing you two have got going on. Hop on a horse and ride off into the heterosexual sunset, why don't you?"

"' _Heterosexual sunset_ ,'" Gwen repeats and her face and body crumble with laughter. That Danilo is a funny guy. 

"Well it's _true_." Grabbing another length of hair, he begins working on weaving it seamlessly into Gwen's own. 

"Blake's so awesome, he even helped me dye my hair before you got here; at least, he tried to." We look at each other. She's bragging on me again, and I love it, although I can't tell what's so remarkable about what I've done. I guess not being used to praise and affection goes both ways for us.

"It's true. I sat here watching her do it, and when she got to the back, I offered to help." 

This was after we listened to "Leather and Lace" a few dozen times, while we sat on her couch, at first marveling over the parallels between our lives and the lyrics, and then, making out like teens at a drive-in movie. Only the text from Danilo asking what time she wanted him to come over gave us reason to pause.

"Blake, now I know your mom does hair, but do you have the magic in your hands too?" He lifts up his shears, snipping them in the air at me.

That's an easy one to answer. "Fuck no." 

"Yeah, he kinda, like, sucked at it," Gwen chimes in with an honest response. "But it was so cute that he tried."

"I've never seen that done before, with a freakin' Q-tip and all, and I was kinda curious, so I gave it a shot." I've seen my mom dye thousands of heads of hair, but this was just the very barest of Gwen's roots. My hands are too big and clumsy to be fooling around like that. "Curiosity, gone; I'll leave that meticulous shit to the experts."

Suddenly understanding something, Danilo nods his head, emphatically. "So that accounts for so much discoloration on this portion of your scalp, back here."

"Yeah." Gwen smiles at me, her eyes rapidly melting like chocolate out in the sun. "All I ever want you to do is keep me company, baby."

And my heart melts as I look at her. "Now _that,_ I will always gladly do." 

"Giddyup! The sun sets in about an hour, lovebirds." Danilo's point comes back full circle.

 

 

Sitting in Gwen's office, table and floor lamps on, and we've just finished looking over the promo shots she's done for her eyewear line. She stands up to put the proofs away in a filing cabinet and I follow. I don't know if it's the beautiful photos, or the new long straight hair, or something altogether different, but I'm trying to get my hands on her, the sooner the better.

She turns around, not startled to see me right there. "So you really like the glasses? I've been wanting to do those for forever, so like, it's literally, like _so magical_ that they'll be in stores in like a month."

"You know, you could just have that LASIK surgery done like I did in August. No glasses ever again." I pull the multi-colored pair she's wearing off her face, and tuck them into the pocket of my shirt. 

"But they're so stylish!" I crowd her, no personal space between us anymore. She puts her hands on my arms and pulls them to her waist. "You can switch to a different pair, like, everyday depending on your mood, or like, your outfit." She's clearly enthused about telling me all the fashion possibilities; I'm just as clearly enthused about her mouth doing other things.

"I only have three outfits anyway: camo, flannel, and one white button-down shirt for special occasions." I list them out on fingers that then move back downwards to tug on the ends of her hair as they brush her arms.

Her resulting giggle burns through me, and I pull her hips into mine, wanting her to take notice of me, in the same way I'm taking notice of her. 

She does. 

Almost right away, her smile fades, her tongue wetting her pale pink lips as my eyes focus intently on the sexy motion. "Let me take care of that for you, pretty lady."

I love how her arms automatically reach up and around my neck to hold onto me. She pulls my head down to hers, as my arms at her waist hold her bottom half fast against me. The pressure of her slim thighs on mine just serves to emphasize how tiny she is compared to me; my fingers flex on her hips as they make sure not to squeeze too tightly, in my excitement to have her in my arms. Her tongue sweeps against mine and I lose whatever train of thought I've had up to this point.

Backing up her hips, long fingers move to the crotch of my jeans, holding me as I twitch in the covered warmth of her hand. Before I can breathe again, she unzips my pants, unbuttons them and reaches her cool fingers inside my underwear. The sensation of her taking me in her hand is amazing, given its simple action, but there's nothing about us together that isn't amazing, so I shouldn't be too surprised. 

Husky and affected, her voice comes from the vicinity of my chest, where her lips have found the unfastened portion of my shirt. "Have a seat."

Her fingers push against me and I walk backwards, my mouth still seeking hers out, her hands still seeking me out, as I go. Feeling the chair against the back of my knees, I get ready to sit, but she motions for me to wait. 

She pulls the glasses back out of the pocket on my chest and puts them on. "I want to see everything," she explains, before kissing me and dropping to her knees in front of me.

Hands pull everything down and off, leaving my erection exposed. She takes her own sweet time, licking from the balls to the head, on the bottom side of my shaft, using the moisture to lubricate the strong but slow jerking movement of her hand. She looks up at me, eyes big behind her glasses, hair falling over her shoulder and I suddenly need to sit down. 

Once I do, she positions me at the edge of the chair, my back leaning away from her. Her whole hot mouth swallows me, taking me in almost halfway. _Fuck._ Left like this, I'll be coming in no time, but I'll let her take me to the edge first, before I stop. The blonde strands brush against me as she continues her sucking motion. I want to wrap my hands in that hair and guide her mouth more directly, but I let her have the control. She lets my dick fall sloppily from her mouth, and as her red nails claw into the surface of my thighs, her mouth opens up, her tongue flat as it licks around the head. Skirting close to that edge now.

"Is this okay?" Her tongue licks at me again and again, before she takes me in with a slurping sound. "Tell me how you want it." Her sweet, scratchy voice is almost my undoing. My eyes close against the beauty of the picture she's making on her knees, with my dick between her lips. Too close; I need to save myself from falling.

"Enough." I sound rough to my own ears, but I know she barely notices it. I turn the brim of my cap to the back and reach under her arms to grab her and pull her onto my lap. I awkwardly peel off the black leggings that hug her legs and then reach around trying not to tear off the slip of fabric that remains to hide her from my eyes. 

She scrambles into a standing position astride me, her legs on either side of the funky colored chair I'm sitting in. While she stands, I pull her into a kiss, my face on bottom, hers on top, for once. My fingers crawl up her thigh, over the curve of her ass and around to test her readiness from behind. As I slip a single finger inside, I'm amazed at how wet she's gotten, just from giving me a blowjob. Pulling the finger out, I watch myself as I drag it, wet and creamy across her swollen clit. "You ready?" My voice shakes under the strain of waiting.

Nodding her head yes, she places one hand on my shoulder as she grasps my dick with the other. She rubs it across her wetness before lowering herself onto me, carefully. Instantly, I remember her earlier soreness, and wonder if she's ready for this, yet. As I'm sliding in, she whimpers, looking down to watch our joining, until I'm buried all the way inside of her. 

"Now, it's time to ride my cowboy." Her pussy clenches around me and the question I wanted to ask is forgotten, all of the sudden. 

She moves on me, a dangerous back and forth dragging motion with her hips. A ridiculously sexy dance of push in and pull out, with my dick on the receiving end of each. Her breath stutters out of her mouth, and across my face, with no particular rhythm, other than the one she's set with her hips. My hands come alive from their resting place around her, and grab her ass. The added pressure they provide spurs me further along towards the edge that I only flirted with earlier. I need her lips, I need to taste the sweetness of her mouth before I jump off that cliff. But most importantly, I need to hold her hand so we can jump off together. 

"C'mon baby," I rock into her stronger and faster, speaking to her in between tastes of her lips. "I wanna feel you come around my dick. You feel so good....you know that?" A low sound leaks out between her lips, and her head goes back. Her nails scrape against the part of my scalp not hidden under my hat, the movement of her hips faltering as she begins to tumble. 

"That's right, Gwen. Come for me baby."

Between my hands, her body shakes, her loud whimpers turning into louder moans as she comes hard, a split second before I groan and spill into her. My arms wrap around her tight; I need to ground myself to her, as I fly off that same edge.

Our breathing slows down together, at the same time, as if we are the same person. Again, she kisses me, the frame of her glasses touching above my eyebrow lightly as she does so. Her hand climbs through my thick hair, taking the trucker hat with it as it goes. Random twitches inside of her prevent my dick from fully softening, but for the moment, I'm satisfied.

"This belongs to me now." The hat that sat on my head, now sits atop hers, the camouflaged brim pointing in my direction. Underneath, the length of her blonde hair flows straight, and the corners of her lips barely turn upwards as she studies my face with her eyes and hands.

"Sorry, I don't have a class ring or a letterman jacket to give you." I apologize, heart pounding at the message she's trying to get across to me right now.

"This is even better, though, right? This represents you, who you are, the most." She wiggles her nose, pushing the glasses up onto its bridge again. "And so then, since I'm your girl and all, this like, represents _us_ now, yeah?"

There's an explosion in my chest."You're damn right, baby."

One more kiss before I take her to the bedroom, where we can do this all over again. This time, she'll be wearing the hat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HotlineBling: your random comments give my imagination a kickstart everytime!
> 
> K.S. you're so encouraging, I may not quite this story after all thanks to our talk on DM.
> 
> Everyone, thank you for your patience and kind words.
> 
> #MakeMeLikeYou   
> #Misery   
> #ThisIsWhatTheTruthFeelsLike   
> #gwenstefani  
> #March18th

**Author's Note:**

> Multi-part fanfic, and I hope to post every other day. Some parts will be explicit. Thanks for reading and commenting.


End file.
